I'll Be
by stix04
Summary: Can Quinn pretend to be in love with Rachel just to get out of Lima? Can Rachel pretend to love Quinn so she's not so lonely in New York? And what happens when both girls realize they're no longer pretending?
1. Chapter 1 When Rachel Met Quinn

Chapter One: When Rachel Met Quinn

Quinn Fabray was surprised when the tears didn't come. She was equally surprised at how numb she felt. The blonde calmly gripped the paper in her hand, crinkling it a little, before she tossed it into the trashcan.

_Well…that's it,_ Quinn thought dryly, _I'm a Lima loser. _

"Hey, baby mama, you coming?" Puck's voice pulled her from her misery as he excitedly jumped up and down towards the school's exit. She smiled falsely and nodded, her voice shaking only slightly.

"I'll be there in a minute." He beamed and winked before taking off through the open doors and out into the parking lot where the other McKinley seniors were celebrating their final day of high school. All but Quinn.

She had applied to several schools, hoping for a full athletic or merit scholarship to each—to any. And although she had received scholarships, none of universities would comp her education. Financial aid was out of the question because her parents still claimed her on their taxes despite the fact that the blonde hadn't lived with them in almost two years. They made too much money for Quinn to qualify for loans or grants—not like she could use her father's name to gain aid—and she didn't have the time nor means to declare herself independent—that required proof of independence, like paying bills.

So she was stuck in Lima. Four years of constant studying, four years of back-breaking physical abuse at the hands of Sue Sylvester, four years of manipulating and terrorizing, and it was all for naught.

"Can you fucking believe that?" Quinn's head swiveled at the sound of Santana's voice as the Latina stalked down the hallway with Brittany in tow. "I swear to God I'll shove my hand down someone's throat and rip out their vocal cords if I hear about her full ride to Julliard _again." _Santana sneered as she walked passed Quinn, and completely ignored the blonde's presence before continuing on her way.

She was talking about Rachel Berry, the only McKinley senior who would be getting out of Ohio. Sure, there were graduates that got a chance at leaving Lima—the New Directions members being a few of them—but the brunette was the sole student that managed to hightail it out of the state.

Quinn quickly tossed the rest of her notebooks into the trashcan beside her locker before slamming the door out of irritation. She had absolutely no outs and to add insult to injury, all her backup plans had fallen through.

She had hoped, a lifetime ago, dating Finn Hudson would be a solid plan B considering his athleticism would get him out of Lima—it was why she started dating him in the first place. After they broke up sophomore year she did everything in her power to repair that bridge just in case she had needed it. And just like she had done to Noah Puckerman, she led Finn on in hopes that if he was able to get out town, he might take her with him. After the initial excitement wore off of dating the new transfer student/ football player, Sam Evens, Quinn quickly realized that they had nothing in common and it wasn't going anywhere; _He _wasn't going anywhere. But Quinn desperately needed to get out of Lima—it was the reason she gave Beth away after all, in hopes she'd make something of herself—so she stayed with Sam. He was a really great guy…but something was missing. By the time they finalized the split, Sam—although still nice to the cheerleader—wanted nothing to do with her romantically.

All three of her backup plans failed epically. And to make matters worse, Quinn was deemed "boy bad luck" after the breakups. It wasn't _Quinn's _fault that Puck spent more time in juvy then class, or that Finn dated Rachel Berry and became some sort of outcast right along with the diva, or that Sam was too busy crying during their championship football game, getting him sacked and blowing their winning season…okay…that last one _might_ have been Quinn's fault because the boy had been crying over her. But even through tears Sam should have seen Artie, wide freaking open, in the end zone!

It was humiliating. She was head Cheerio, gorgeous, baby-weight-free and still no one would date her. She even tried college boys, humiliating herself further by dating a gross philosophy student with chin pubes and wire-rimmed glasses in the hopes that _something_ would come of it. But he wanted to teach at Ohio University and his clothes were so ugly that Quinn couldn't even bring herself to at least get out of Lima by way of the sandals-with-socks-wearing boy.

She was sick with herself for what she did in her goal to leave the black hole of a state, and she had nothing to show for it; no real home, no real friends, no parents, no Beth, no love.

But she knew no other way of reaching her dreams. Manipulating and lying were all she _ever_ knew. Surely, there was _some way_ she could leave Ohio; be it by car, bus, train, plane, or sea, Quinn Fabray _had_ to get out of Ohio, and most definitely out of Lima.

"Her fathers bought her an expensive apartment in the freaking city, can you believe that?"

"I heard that _everything_ is being paid for by that stupid school."

"Apparently she turned down a fucking record contract after some big-shot saw her sing at Nationals."

Quinn inhaled deeply before blowing out a long breath as she walked through the Puckerman house. All night no one could talk about anything else but Rachel freaking Berry. Rachel this, Rachel that, all night long and Quinn was ready to snap.

As she stood on the back porch she took a long pull on her fifth wine cooler as she tried to regain her composure. Rachel wasn't even at the party, but no one spoke of anything else, whether they were in awe, bitching, or just gossiping; the diva's name was on everyone's lips.

Even Finn couldn't help gushing and his relationship with the brunette had been over for a few months. His idea. When Ohio State recruited him for their team, he visited the college and was treated like a god there. Quinn didn't know the specifics, but she was pretty sure her ex boyfriend was involved in more than one sexual liaison that weekend. He told the diva that he thought the distance would be too much for him, but Quinn—and probably Rachel—knew that the new Ohio State junior varsity quarterback was more than ready for the bigger and better.

It gave the blonde a small amount of pleasure knowing that at least the brunette didn't have everything. She was still friendless, loveless, and was about to be _very_ alone in _the_ Big City. Although, Quinn mused as she opened another wine cooler and tried to drown out the sound of the raging party behind her, she felt a little bad for Rachel.

She had been _crushed_ when Finn ended it. It was out of the blue and nothing short of brutal how the boy dropped the bomb on the diva. One minute, they were singing duets in glee, perfectly in love and happy. The next, Rachel was a robot who cared about little else but following her dream with a renewed drive that was almost manic.

She spoke to no one. No one. Not even Mr. Shue. When she wasn't in classes, she was either in the auditorium or the band room practicing. And although that's where you could usually find Rachel before the split, her intense vigor to really _make it_ was scary. She snapped viciously if anyone attempted to talk to her, even nicely, and was often seen crying openly if that wasn't the case.

It was around midnight when the plan began to form for Quinn. She had just overheard Mercedes talking about Rachel's success and the blonde's boiling point spilled over. The achievement _should_ have been Quinn's. The envy _should_ have been directed towards _her_. _Quinn_ should be packing her bags, destination victory in her sights. But it belonged to Rachel.

Quinn chuckled as she sipped on her wine cooler, thinking up different ways that she could sabotage the brunette. But every time she pictured going through with her plans, Quinn dismissed them. She and Rachel had a lot in common those days, after all. Neither of them had friends—Quinn wasn't counting Puck—and neither had any romantic leads. Both were deemed McKinley's pariahs and now that high school was over, the blonde didn't see a change happening for her.

Quinn had nothing—nothing that could help her, anyway.

"Hey! Where ya going, Q?" Puck shouted at her as she sprinted through the boy's crowded house. Puck was hoping to get a moment alone with her to try yet _again_ to convince Quinn they should give it another shot. But the blonde dismissed his question and hurriedly got into her car with only one place in mind: Rachel Berry's house.

She got there within minutes, the alcohol fueling her led foot as she drove, ignoring stop signs and red lights. She ripped open her door and barely managed to pull her keys out of the ignition before she flew from the car and ran towards the Berrys' house.

Her pointer finger jammed the doorbell and her hand thrust the knocker loudly several dozen times in drunken anticipation. Only when the house lit up and she withdrew her arm did she realize she was sobbing.

Quinn stuttered and stammered her intoxicated explanation to both of Rachel's fathers several times before the one finally went to retrieve their daughter. They couldn't get a coherent sentence out of the blonde to figure out what she was doing there at half past twelve or why she was in such a state.

A sleepy Rachel dragged herself down the steps in bewilderment, not comprehending anything her father had said and unsure of whom he was referring, but stumbled out of bed all the same. Through tears, the blonde watched anxiously as Rachel descended the stairs and her stomach fluttered nervously as it always did when she saw the diva. And just like always, she dismissed it.

When the brunette caught sight of the crying blonde, her eyes widened and she was immediately alert. "Quinn! What happened? What is it? Are you hurt?" Rachel exclaimed as she advanced on the cheerleader in terror.

Contrary to what everyone thought, including the members of New Directions, Rachel Berry still very much cared for the club and the people within it. She just knew no one cared for her. Her dream within grasp, however, Rachel decided she didn't _want_ to care for them any longer. She was tired of hoping. She was tired of trying. Rachel thought it would just be easier if she pretended not to care so everyone else wouldn't have to pretend to care about her either.

She was beyond hurt by Finn's antics—the only one who was _ever_ in her corner—and thought it best to devote her attention towards something that would actually pan out: her future.

But she stilled cared. God help her she still cared. And it hurt every day because of it. No one even _attempted_ to befriend Rachel those last few months of high school. Not one apology, not a smile or a quick check to see if she had extravagant plans including some sharp razors and a loop of depressing Le Miz songs. Some days she'd go without speaking to anyone at all; completely invisible. Those were the good days.

So why the hell was Quinn Fabray at her house, a disheveled sobbing lunatic, at almost one in the morning on the night before their high school graduation?

Rachel got the answer after she led the blonde upstairs to her almost empty bedroom. Upon seeing the packed boxes, the Cheerio broke out in a fresh wave of tears, making it nearly impossible for Rachel to understand her as the diva sat on her bed and watched the pacing, frantic blonde. She caught words like "alone," and "failure." Every once and a while sentences were clear like "miserable for the rest of my life," and "_so_ many regrets."

It was obvious that Quinn Fabray was drunk. So Rachel listened as closely as possible for a lull in the whimpers and wails for some sense to be made.

"I'm _so_ proud of you!" Quinn finally said, dropping to her knees to clutch Rachel's hands in a surprising gesture the brunette hadn't seen coming. She didn't even notice the blonde move towards the bed, but Quinn was on her knees in front of her, proclaiming how amazing Rachel was and how incredible her future would be.

This brought back more tears and again the diva could hardly understand the blonde. "I'm so sorry, Rachel! I'm so unbelievably sorry!" Quinn surged. She couldn't be stopped. Even when Rachel assured Quinn that she forgave her and did not begrudge her anything—lies—the blonde would only cry harder and clasp the diva's hands tighter.

"I'm going to get you a glass of water." Rachel said, close to an hour after Quinn had arrived with no end to her drunken ramblings and apologizes in sight.

"No! Don't leave!" Quinn pleaded.

"Quinn!" Rachel yelped as she dragged the blonde along, who had her arms wrapped around the diva's left leg. "I'll be right back! Please stay and I will return shortly." Rachel annunciated every syllable slowly and loudly, seizing Quinn's shoulders with her hands and looking the blonde directly in the eye. Eventually Quinn nodded and Rachel raced down to her kitchen to get a glass of water to calm the Cheerio.

A part of the blonde's brain was wondering what the hell she was doing at Rachel's house. She didn't even remember what prompted the visit and now that she was there, she was curious as to what her next move should be. She thought about it as she waited for the tiny diva to return, her eyes racing over the carpet without seeing a fiber as she tried to concoct a plan that would help her. Nothing was clicking.

Luckily, Rachel's fathers had returned to bed. Their daughter had assured them that her best friend Quinn was only miserable that Rachel would be leaving town, and wanted one last night to hang out with her bff. Her fathers had bought it, hook, line, and sinker, and Rachel's bright smile sagged as she watched the two men retreat, wondering exactly _why_ they bought the story.

When she returned, Quinn looked up at her from where Rachel had left her on the floor with big, anxious eyes and a relieved grin. The blonde turned on her knees, shuffling along, to follow Rachel's progress through the room and scooted closer to the diva from the floor as Rachel sat on her bed.

With two hands, Quinn held the glass of water to her lips; her eyes trained up on the weary diva over the rim, and drank greedily. When she finally pulled the cup away, exceptionally out of breath and panting from drinking for so long, she gazed at Rachel with a hungry look in her dark, hazel eyes.

"I'm in love with you!"

The declaration with met with piercing quiet that stretched on for over a full minute. Quinn could actually hear the sound of Rachel's eyelids flutter when she eventually blinked after the extended silence.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. It has been a rather long day—and for that matter, a somewhat extensive eighteen years—so I believe that I misheard you. I once read a fairly terrifying article about a young man who devoted his life to the hum of nature only to find at the young age of thirty-four he had lost his hearing. Considering the fact that I spend large quantities of time focusing my efforts on sound, inflections, pitch, tone, and various musical instruments, it could stand to reason that my eardrums have suffered greatly. So I must ask you to repeat yourself, although tiring as it may be, because I am almost certain you just professed your love for me and that could hardly be the case seeing as how outrageously horribly you have treated me in the past, even the present, and taking into consideration that I've been more than confident that you have not displayed anything but heterosexual inclinations throughout the tenure of our acquaintanceship and have displayed gross contempt and—what some may call—homicidal hatred of my very existence, I must be wrong." Rachel took a deep breath, cleared her throat and gestured towards the blonde still kneeing on the floor. "You may now refute my obvious misinterpretation."

Quinn only scooted closer to Rachel on her knees, eyes hysterical, as she reached out for the brunette. "Think about how happy I could make you, Rachel. I would do anything you asked. I'd cook and clean for you. Rehearse lines, songs, and dance numbers. I'd sit front and center at each one of your shows and support you for as long as you needed me to." Rachel shook her head as she slowly realized Quinn wasn't denying anything, and in fact, was trying to _prove_ it.

"I'll be your biggest fan and protect you and care for you and we'd never have to be apart and you'd never have to be lonely." Rachel's eyes got considerably wider the more Quinn elaborated. "I'll take you to auditions and help you study for your classes, I'll get crappy jobs to supplement our income and convert to Judaism and become a vegan and, and, and, I can sew! I'd sew your costumes for you or fix the plumbing and-"

"What the holy HELL are you talking about Quinn Fabray?" Rachel shouted finally, absolutely flabbergasted by the display the blonde was putting on and the unfathomable meaning behind it.

"Rachel I love you! I want to _be_ with you and I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen!" The brunette's jaw almost unhinged itself as it dawned on her that the blonde was actually serious.

As Quinn waited for Rachel to return with her glass of water, the idea stuck Quinn that her only option was to play to her strengths; lying and manipulation. She _knew_ that Rachel had no one. She _knew_ that Rachel was hurt and lonely. Quinn _knew_ what those feelings felt like. And the blonde was sure, that if someone had spoken those words to her, she would have jumped at the chance of having someone beside her in that scary period of her life. It stood to reason that Rachel would fall for it as well—perhaps even more so because the diva never truly had it. And she _must_ fall for it. Because Quinn was out of options.

"W-wh-what…you _must_ be joking. Or, you are insanely drunk! Yeah, that's it. Or, no! This is a prank! A final gesture of cruelty and brutality that you've cooked up since you know that I'm leaving tomorrow!" Rachel jumped off her bed and flung her bedroom door open.

"Get out of my house, Quinn! I hope for the rest of your life you become as miserable and despondent as the sick games you've thrust upon your peers!" Quinn scrambled to her feet and grabbed the hand Rachel had pointed signaling that Quinn should leave.

The brunette stared up at the crying girl, shocked and appalled by the blonde's behavior. Rachel was stuttering again, astounded that those words had come out of Quinn Fabray's mouth.

"No, Rachel! I swear on my life…I swear on my _daughter's _life that this is in no way meant to hurt you! You _must_ believe me, you _must_ take me with you!" Quinn begged as her tears doubled and loud sobs wracked her body. She stared at the stunned brunette for a long moment, tears chasing one after the other down her pale cheeks.

_Lie and manipulate. _

Then, without another thought, she cupped the brunette's face and crashed their lips together in hopes that her desperation would transfer through her mouth to Rachel's and convince the brunette that she had to take Quinn with her.

The mass amounts of alcohol Quinn had consumed were definitely taking their toll. She had planned on coyly convincing the brunette to take her with her, not to make a spectacle out of herself as she sobbed and begged. But her life was slipping from her fingertips and she was more than desperate. The future was bleak and hopeless and Rachel was her only shot out.

She knew that she was following in the foot-steps of her sister and mother; latching onto someone to further herself despite her own desires. But with any luck, she'd be able to create a life for herself with the help of the diva and maybe one day she'd finally be happy. Even if it meant a sham of a relationship and lying and manipulating to get there.

When Rachel was finally able to detach herself from Quinn's mouth, panting and struggling to suck in oxygen, she slapped the blonde hard across the face before she covered her mouth out of shock.

Quinn barely registered the slap, however. She wasn't deterred but she was almost as surprised as Rachel that she had kissed the diva. What stunned her most of all though, was the passion the kiss ignited within her. Whether it was the alcohol or not, something inside Quinn stirred, and without another thought she wrapped her arm around the brunette's waist and seized her mouth again.

Although this kiss lasted longer then the previous one, the result was the same. Rachel pulled away and slapped Quinn's cheek, but the blonde covered the diva's lips yet again until Rachel stopped pulling away.

The clatter of books falling from shelves and posters ripping were barely audible over the sounds of Rachel and Quinn's fervent moans as they pushed and pulled one another against walls and desks and bounced off of surfaces and skin. Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck as the blonde possessively clung to the diva's hips as their tongues invaded each other's mouths deeply and hungrily while hands strayed everywhere and anywhere they could.

Rachel had forgotten this feeling, or maybe she'd never had it. But it felt _good_ to be desired again. Or maybe for the first time. The desperation and hunger in Quinn's hazel eyes set the diva off; she had _never_ had anyone look at her that way. Besides hugs from her fathers, she hadn't been _touched_ in months, and even then it wasn't like this. She wasn't entirely sure if she liked it or not, but each time Quinn's hands would hold her a little tighter or her tongue would delve into her mouth, Rachel felt alive and wanted again; or maybe for the first time.

Quinn's teeth slid against Rachel's lower lip, pulling it away briefly before sucking on it causing the brunette to moan deep in her throat. The blonde dove for Rachel's neck, kissing and sucking out the diva's whimpers as Rachel's held the back of blonde hair to keep Quinn in place.

"Oh God, Quinn!" Rachel moaned loudly, half on top her desk with the blonde settled between her parted thighs, with her head thrown back in elation. At the sound of her name, however, Quinn shot back, her chest heaving, as she stared down in horror at the panting brunette.

A pale, shaky hand covered bruised lips as Quinn's wide eyes regarded the diva. "Rachel I'm-I'm so-sorry! I never meant-I only wanted to go to New York with you-I-" Quinn felt dizzy and lost; _what the _hell_ did she just do?_ All she had wanted was to convince Rachel that her declaration was true. She needed to buy time so Rachel wouldn't kick her out, prove to the brunette that Quinn _would_ do all the things she had said. But…kissing Rachel?

Without waiting for Rachel's response, Quinn ran from the bedroom and sprinted down the stairs and flew through the living room as she raced out of the house, desperate to be as far away from Rachel as possible.

While Quinn quietly snuck through the Jones house and crept into Mercedes' brother's bedroom before promptly passing out on the bed after crying herself to sleep, Rachel Berry was still wide-eyed and frozen atop her desk. After nearly a half an hour of astonishment, the brunette eventually slid off her desk and mechanically crawled into bed, frantically trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

She hadn't made that up, right? Quinn Fabray _actually_ showed up at her house, proclaimed her love to her, kissed her thoroughly, and asked the diva if she could go to New York with her. "What the _fuck?" _Rachel asked the empty bedroom, still completely astounded—she _had_ to been flabbergasted if she cursed; something she _never_ did. But it didn't escape the diva that she had been nearly sold on the whole matter—seconds away from agreeing that having Quinn Fabray with her in New York sounded like it was _exactly_ what Rachel Berry needed.

The next day at McKinley's class of 2012 graduation ceremony, both Quinn and Rachel were clad in dark sunglasses and silent. The blonde's head was splitting from her hangover and her eyes swollen from tears, while the brunette's eyes were puffy from staying up all night. Neither girl spoke to anyone. It wasn't like anyone _would_ talk to Rachel Berry…_or_ Quinn Fabray for that matter. Every friendship that the blonde built during her pregnancy was eradicated not long after she became head Cheerio junior year.

Even her friendship with Mercedes was destroyed—the girl finally snapping after Quinn snubbed her one time too many—despite the blonde still living in her house. Although their friendship was over, Mercedes didn't want to be _another_ person to kick Quinn out, so she just never mentioned their feud to her parents but ignored the Cheerio when they were both home.

Quinn wished she never even attended the ceremony; it was far too depressing. Even _Puck_ had managed to get into a college and would be leaving Lima. She almost approached him before the processional to see if he'd take her with him—seeing as how he was the only person who _would_ talk to Quinn—but after the previous night with Rachel, she changed her mind; the blonde couldn't find it in herself to lie and manipulate again.

Every time she thought about what occurred at the Berrys', her stomach would roll uncomfortably and she fought down the nausea. She had no idea what came over her—kissing aside—when she begged and pleaded. But when she did think of the kiss, or _kisses_, again her stomach would roll uncomfortably but she didn't feel nauseated. Quinn cursed the wine coolers for momentarily convincing her that she enjoyed the exchanged, and hoped that she wouldn't have to see the diva amongst her graduating class. Luckily, the only time she _did_ she Rachel was when the brunette crossed the stage to accept her diploma to the soundtrack of boos from her peers.

Quinn ignored the flutter in her stomach at the sight of Rachel and the rush of anger that swept over her at the sound of the boos, feeling for the girl. Yes, Rachel was annoying, but she didn't deserve a mass of jeers hours before she was set to leave Lima. But, the blonde supposed everyone was probably jealous and knew that Rachel would be taking the train out of Ohio after the ceremony for her summer internship at her new school; they probably just wanted to give the girl one last _fuck you_ before she left.

There was no one waiting for Quinn after the ceremony to give her a bouquet of flowers or a hug and kiss to tell her how proud of her they were. No one was there to support the Cheerio in any way. And despite the off-handed invitation Mercedes extended Quinn to go out to lunch with the Joneses, the blonde declined, and instead, walked around the place where she felt chained and bound. She paced around McKinley's campus, sitting on the bleachers briefly to soak up all the grueling hours she had spent on the field for Cheerios practices, walked around the park, Main Street, passed by her parents' house, and ended up back at the school.

She could hear Coach Sylvester screaming through her bullhorn at the Cheerios now that the field had been cleared of the graduating class and felt nothing but misery. What was she going to do? She could hardly live in the Jones' house now that Mercedes was going off to college in Columbus. She couldn't afford an apartment by herself and had no one to share one with. There were no jobs in Lima, the recession hitting there first and still lingering despite better economic times elsewhere. And she didn't have the means to travel outside the town to start fresh.

Puck and Finn would be off to Ohio State for the football training season, so it wasn't like she could turn to them, and all the other gleeks wanted nothing to do with her. She was stuck…no, Quinn thought…she was _fucked_.

Rachel Berry spun slowly in her chair as she stared unseeing outside the wide, picturesque window of the spacious office. She clamped her teeth down hard on her pen cap as she fantasized about a better life, but was thoroughly distracted. It was just a dreary day in New York…it was drizzling. The thought made her eyes well up as her chest tightened in response; just the thought of Finn made her lonely. "Rachel?" The brunette quickly cleared her throat and hastily swiped at her tears before turning around to face the open doorway where her boss stood.

"Rachel, I need this filing done ASAP and I would appreciate it if you would stop daydreaming." Rachel nodded smartly at her boss and shuffled the files on the desk hoping it appeared as though she was being productive. Her boss merely rolled his eyes before he turned and left the diva alone.

She had been in New York for nearly three weeks and had been working long hours for her internship. She was lonesome. She missed Lima. The other interns all kept to themselves and she was always shut-up in the large office—belonging to a professor who was away for the summer—for extended periods of time to just think. Think about how miserable her life was. How lonely she'd become. How difficult the road before her seemed. On her first day of her internship in the enormous performing arts building at her new school, she got a look at her competition and figured out that she had her work cut out for her. She was no longer a big fish in a small pond, but plankton in an ocean of pretentious, vegetarian sharks.

There was no one there to cheer her on, no fathers to smile at her and call her their little star, no glee club to help her shine, and no loving boyfriend to kiss away her tears. She was very much alone. And her life was a mess.

She was living in a nice-sized apartment only ten city blocks away from her school but actually _in _the apartment a handful of hours a day. Rachel only showered, ate dinner, and slept there before hurriedly racing to Julliard to work eight hours as an intern, filing records for the admission's board or putting away props and other theater paraphernalia. Then it was off to dance and vocal lessons before she exhaustingly trudged home, to an empty apartment, where she promptly crashed—sometimes not even managing to eat dinner.

The nights her fathers worked—to busy to take her phone calls—Rachel would go the whole day without speaking to anyone besides her boss, and then it was monosyllabic orders and sometimes not even that. In the beginning, the diva would rally herself by saying that it was only bad now, but once she made it, things would be better. But as the days went on, the mantra was getting more difficult to believe, especially once she realized that _everyone_ at Julliard had talent and drive.

Without a support system, Rachel was flailing…and the semester hadn't even started yet. She wasn't sure how long she could keep it up. It was hard enough to convince her fathers that she was happy; neither of them understanding how hard it was for their daughter—Rachel could never tell them the truth about her life, always lying to keep them happy even when she was at McKinley. How was she going to make it four years at this rate—how was she going to make it a lifetime? She wished she had foregone her fathers' present of an apartment and opted for student housing; at least then she would have met some people. But on-campus housing didn't start until the fall semester—leaving her homeless during her summer internship—and Rachel wasn't sure she liked the idea of living with a stranger, especially since she'd be practicing for performances or auditions, and needed space and quiet.

A week went by without any improvement. Honestly, things only got worse. After watching a few of her soon-to-be classmates mess around on stage in an off-the-cuff jam session, Rachel sobbed for hours behind the closed door of the office where she was supposed to be filing; they were _good. _The brunette, out of desperation, even tried calling her mother for support. But Shelby was too busy with Beth and Rachel didn't want to trouble her—mostly because she couldn't bring herself to actually open up to the woman who had abandoned her—and quickly got off the phone.

Instead, Rachel packed up for the day, not caring that she had gotten little done or that she'd be reprimanded, and decided that she'd return to her work on Monday, _after_ the weekend; she needed the days off to think.

She hadn't planned it, not really ready to throw in the towel so easily, but after walking six blocks up Broadway she absentmindedly joined the other commuters and headed down the dirty steps to the subway despite the fact that she was only four blocks from her apartment.

A blink of an eye later, Rachel exited the subway and stumbled to Penn Station. She could have walked to the train from Julliard, but maybe a part of Rachel knew that then she wouldn't have gotten aboard. She took the Cardinal line that dumped her into Cincinnati and a bus and taxi ride later, Rachel was standing in front of her fathers' house and quickly stuffed her key in the lock. Rachel would later muse that just maybe she _had_ planned the trip after all. Considering the Cardinal line only makes the trip to Cincinnati, Ohio three days a week, she'd had to have planned it.

But it was at that moment, upon finding the house dark and quiet, that Rachel Berry collapsed and sobbed like she had never done before, officially giving up. She had completely forgotten that her fathers were taking a long weekend cruise, something they had been planning for years once Rachel was out of the house, and weren't there to console their daughter. Amazing how she had forgotten that one little detail, after making sure to know the days and times the train would take her into Ohio, she never banked on not having anything there for her once she reached home.

As she silently cried on the welcome matt just inside the house, she considered ordering takeout like she and her fathers had always done—and a skill she had perfected in New York—but Rachel wasn't sure she could hold down food. She stumbled upstairs to her old bedroom, not exactly out of comfort seeing as most of her possessions were at her apartment, but mostly because she couldn't stand the quiet house. She'd just lay down on her bed and sleep the weekend away.

But sleep wasn't coming. She tossed and turned and shut her eyes tightly to block out the sound of her new classmates' spectacular singing and her old classmates booing her as she accepted her diploma—she cried harder at the memory of her fake smile and false laugh as she told her confused fathers that it was an inside joke she had with her friends as she adjusted her graduation cap.

Would it _always_ be so hard? She lay there, reliving every single Slushie attack, every insult, every heartbreak, every student at Julliard that could belt out a number as easily as singing in the shower, and every single night she'd fallen asleep in New York with a container of take-out next to her and wake up the same way. The weight on her heart felt gargantuan and there was no one to take it away.

Rachel opened her puffy eyes to stare about her empty room for _something_ to make the hurt lessen. She studied the bare desk across from her and fondly remembered the days when she'd spend hours planning her future on that very desktop or upload videos of herself on her computer. But this only made her cry harder; realizing that with those memories came a flood of bad ones as well.

Then, suddenly, Rachel sat up in her bed as she recalled a memory that took place on that very desk that _wasn't_ so bad. Puzzling as it might have been, it didn't make her cry. Laughter unexpectedly exploded from her chest as she remembered Quinn kissing her, declaring her love for Rachel, _pleading_ for the diva to take her to New York.

Like a bullet from a gun, Rachel shot out of her bed and raced down her steps and out of the house with only one thought in mind: Quinn Fabray. She tried the Jones' house but Quinn no longer lived there. She tried the Fabrays' but she was only received with frosty reserve. None of the glee members or their parents knew where Quinn was and Rachel almost gave up before she decided to take a chance.

She Googled the address and hesitantly rang the doorbell before a small, rotund Mexican woman answered the door looking expectantly at Rachel. "May I help you?" She asked, her accent obvious.

"May I please see Coach Sylvester?" Sue Sylvester was surprisingly nice, considering. She was more curious than mean, albeit agitated by the intrusion. She quickly made it clear that Quinn was not living with her and that she wished she _was_ so that she could try a risky but possibly worth it medical procedure on the blonde in hopes to use her DNA to force-feed her new Cheerios the talent Quinn possessed. Sue narrowed her eyes at the tiny diva as she watched tears well in Rachel's chocolate eyes towards the end of their visit. It was obvious that Rachel was desperate and instead of being straight-forward or understanding, Sue Sylvester just mentioned that Rachel should try somewhere where Quinn's talent of excellent hair-care treatment would be more useful. In Rachel's mind, and considering Sue Sylvester, that could only be one place.

Rachel actually laughed out loud in relief when she saw Quinn walking towards the back of William Schuester's apartment; she felt like an idiot for not trying there sooner. Surely if the blonde had nowhere else to go she'd try their old glee club instructor. But something about the way the blonde kept looking around, hugging her knapsack close to her as she silently disappeared into the foliage behind the apartment, made Rachel think that it wasn't perhaps as obvious as the brunette thought. She ignored the overwhelming comfort and happiness she felt upon seeing the blonde, but mealy watched.

Rachel had quietly followed Quinn as the blonde bypassed Will Schuester's back door and, instead, followed the brick trail towards another apartment complex just beyond her old glee instructor's apartment. The diva was puzzled and curious now. It was completely plausible that the blonde had found herself a nice apartment to live in, but the way Quinn kept looking over her shoulder—getting Rachel to duck into bushes—and glimpse at her surroundings suspiciously, the brunette had a feeling that Quinn was up to no good.

Rachel watched as Quinn removed something from her pocket and proceeded to stick it into the lock of the door to the apartment complex. At first, the diva thought it was a key. But once the blonde pulled away from the door, Rachel caught sight of a knife before it was stowed, and surmised that Quinn had just broken into the building.

Through the keyhole on the door, Rachel was just able to see Quinn moving around a room that appeared to be the laundry area of the building. The blonde stashed her knapsack between rows of washers and proceeded to pop a few quarters into a dyer. Rachel's eyebrow rose at the action; Quinn, after all, hadn't added any clothes to the machine before she started it. The blonde sighed heavily and ran her hands through her limp hair before moving closer to the running dryer as though she were trying to soak up its warmth. Rachel had seen enough. She quickly opened the door to the laundry room getting Quinn to spin around in panic—afraid a tenant was entering.

Quinn's eyes widened at the sight of Rachel. They both stood frozen, staring at one another, as the silence ticked on. The only sound was coming from the dyer as their eyes bore into one other. Finally, Rachel slowly opened the screen door and stepped inside the laundry room. Her first thought was that Quinn had definitely put on the dyer for added warmth; it was a little chilly that night. Her second thought was that Quinn hadn't seen a proper meal or shower in quiet some time. Her third thought was: it didn't take away from the blonde's beauty.

"You're living here." Quinn nodded dumbly, too surprised at the sight of Rachel to even consider lying or covering her tracks. It had been almost a month since she'd last seen the diva, almost a month since that night at the Berrys' house, and she'd thought about that night more than once since it happened.

Rachel thought momentarily about questioning the girl, trying to deduce why it had come to this for Quinn. She wanted to ask about her future plans, the other glee members and why she wasn't living with them. She considered saying a lot of things. But instead, she just silently walked further into the room, ignoring how Quinn hastily moved out of the brunette's way, and grabbed the blonde's knapsack.

"Let's go. There's a bus to New York in two hours. Is there anywhere you need to stop first?" Again, Quinn just wordlessly shook her head, still unsure of what was happening. "Then let's go."

They didn't say a word, both just staring at the other as they took a cab, bus, and train to New York. They didn't speak as they walked the few blocks back to Rachel's apartment—the brunette kept quiet as she watched Quinn toss her cell phone into a nearby trashcan—and said nothing to one another when the brunette dropped the knapsack onto the floor of her small bedroom before throwing a pair of sweats and t-shirt to the blonde then crawled in the bed. Quinn followed not long after, still stunned. They both just stared up at the cracked ceiling of their new home as they awaited sleep.

"I'll be up tomorrow at six sharp to exercise." Rachel whispered. "I must be out of the house no later than eight o'clock so that I can get to my job to finish up what work I didn't have time to attend to earlier today. I'll be home late, after my voice and dance lessons, somewhere around ten. Is that okay?" Rachel questioned, still looking up at the ceiling above, wishing she could see the Lima stars through her ceiling.

"It's fine." Quinn answered after a long moment, croaking out the words, still in shock.

"Okay. Good night." Rachel breathed before she turned on her side, away from the blonde, to shut out the world.

Once Quinn heard the brunette's soft breaths, indicating Rachel was asleep, the blonde turned on her side too. "Thank you." She sighed to Rachel's back in relief, feeling for the first time in a long time that she would be okay. And when Rachel awoke the next morning, surrounded by the blonde's warmth, scent, and arms, Rachel's quietly thanked Quinn as well.

_This is definitely the most angsty chapter. If all goes according to plan there will be twenty chapters in all and it will most certainly be crack-filled. My crack knows no bounds. You've been warned. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! _


	2. Chapter 2 Ten Things I Hate About Q

_Thank you so much for your overwhelming response to this story. It _is_ different from the stuff I've posted here before, so I'm a little nervous. Well, if you ask Roxystyle, I'm _a lot _nervous. So thank you for reading and thank her for talking me off my cliff. _

_And speaking of Roxystyle, we've decided to do something really crazy and write a one-shot together. She wants to have it finished and posted by tonight. But she be on crack, so maybe tomorrow. It will be posted under her username so if you're interested look out for that. So…that's it. I hope you enjoy!_

Chapter Two: Ten Things I Hate About Q

As Rachel Berry pretended to be working behind the closed door of her office, she was asking herself repeatedly what the hell she had been thinking by bringing Quinn to live with her. Was she _really_ _that_ lonely? And the answer was always the same: yes.

But that didn't mean that the brunette wanted to spend time with Quinn. It was nice to know that she had someone to go home to, someone to share her space with, and someone to wake up to in the morning, but Quinn Fabray scared the holy crap out of Rachel so she didn't see herself lingering in the apartment. In fact, Rachel had made several lists concerning all her reasons to avoid the blonde—lists that went on for pages, summing up how terrible Quinn could be. How ridiculous the idea was that the blonde was now living with Rachel. How much she hated Quinn Fabray.

Rachel was glad that Quinn had been asleep as she slipped out of bed, worked out, showed and dressed, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and raced to work. She was happy to have an actual reason to be out of her apartment; she wasn't sure she could face the blonde. Nodding her head at her own silent agreement, Rachel decided that it wouldn't stand. When she got home from work later that night, she'd just escort Quinn back to Lima and be done with the whole mess. Well, that was the plan anyway.

After Quinn had been sure that Rachel had left for work that first morning, the blonde finally got out of bed. She had woken up refreshed with a sense of safety and accomplishment; she had done it, she had gotten out of Ohio. Now her only concern was keeping herself away.

She had no idea why Rachel had rescued her, but that morning she wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth. She had a job to do. A very important job. One that she had witnessed her mother and sister accomplish: she would have to turn herself into a Stepford Wife.

Was Quinn Fabray humiliated? Of course. Was her pride bruised? Naturally. The thought of catering to Rachel Berry's every whim and desire was demoralizing. But do you know what's even more demoralizing? Sleeping in the basement laundry room of an apartment you don't live in. Collecting cans to be recycled for change just so she could wash her close in said laundry mat, use the dryers as a heater, and beg at local restaurants at the end of each night for scrapes of food they were willing to give away.

Originally she _had_ considered asking Mr. Schue if she could live with him. But he and Emma were dating now. And she had only _recently_ graduated; a barely legal girl living with her former teacher? Quinn could almost _see_ the _Lima Times_ headline and hear the town's gossip. She couldn't do that to him, couldn't put him in that position. So instead of knocking on the door to his apartment, she had taken off.

She didn't get far, though. Quinn witnessed someone entering the building complex behind Mr. Schue's apartment through the basement laundry room and got the idea. She would stay there and that would be her life until she was able to get a job. Throughout the first month the blonde seriously considered crawling back on her hands and knees to her parents. She no longer cared if Judy had taken Russell back. She thought about asking the Joneses if she could live with them again. She no longer cared if Mercedes, and by extension the whole glee club, knew that Quinn had nothing, was nothing. She almost did a lot of things. But each time she was about to go ahead and start groveling, something stopped her.

Maybe it was kismet, fate, destiny or whatever. But Rachel Berry had showed up on her white horse and saved the day; had saved Quinn. The diva had decided to overlook the blonde's past treatment for some unknown reason and Quinn couldn't be more grateful or relieved. So…she was going to make it her life's goal to repay Rachel—Quinn Fabray didn't take handouts—and do everything in her power to see that the diva _made it_.

All right, so Quinn was being a little selfish. If Rachel made it, so would the blonde. Two things Quinn knew for sure: one, Rachel repaid loyalty with loyalty. And two, Rachel needed her. That became blaringly obvious when the blonde had ventured out of the bedroom. Besides the diva's bed, there was not one piece of furniture in the whole apartment. Not one. It also appeared that Rachel hadn't unpacked a thing. Boxes were strewed around the apartment in disarray, not even opened. Not one picture was on the plain, white walls. There wasn't a throw pillow in sight. And besides a case of water, Rachel hadn't bothered to put anything in her refrigerator.

"What the hell have you been eating, Berry?" Quinn had asked herself once she searched through all the bare cabinets.

Take-out, that's what Rachel had been eating. The diva couldn't cook. She wasn't particularly well-versed in cleaning either. She had been too depressed to unpack and decorate. And she didn't have the money to buy furniture for her apartment—her fathers thought it would a soul-enriching experience for Rachel to pick up a part-time job to furnish the apartment they were paying for. But the brunette didn't have time to get a job—nor the inclination. And she didn't have the heart to ask for more money—the apartment, allowance for food, and making payments for her singing, acting, and dancing classes was enough.

So far being a Stepford wife was a pain in the ass for Quinn Fabray. How was she going to prove to the diva that she needed to keep Quinn around if Quinn had no way of proving it to her? The apartment was a mess: take-out containers were everywhere, dirty laundry was piling up, dust caked almost every surface, there was no furniture, nothing was unpacked or decorated, and there was absolutely no edible food in the whole place—Quinn wasn't counting the remnants in the Chinese take-out containers that littered the floor.

The blonde ran her hands through her limp hair and sighed deeply as she spun around the small apartment. For only having four rooms, Quinn had her work cut out for her. _First things first,_ Quinn thought, _I'll have to shop. _

Food and cleaning supplies were the necessities. Once she accomplished that, she'd worry about unpacking, decorating, and furnishing.

Luckily, Rachel had thought to stick her food allowance to the fridge before she left—wanting to make sure Quinn could eat. "Thank God." The blonde breathed out when she caught sight of the $300 and a note from Rachel explaining the moneys' intent. Quinn wasn't exactly sure how far the money would get her, but she knew it was her first real test and she would _have _to pass.

Her first obstacle was finding a grocery store. Surprisingly, that only took a half an hour. Quinn was smug as she stepped through the sliding doors of the store. "New York City isn't as bad as they make it sound." She mumbled through a smirk in the bustling store. Okay, so the cab driver was a bit of a dick and she couldn't understand a _word_ he had said and he likewise with her, and yeah, it had been loud as she waited impatiently for a taxi to _finally_ pull over and she wasn't _exactly_ sure what the stench outside the apartment had been, but she had done it.

But her second obstacle was quickly approaching and Quinn wasn't even aware. She was still smirking to herself as she waited in the line to the checkout lane with her basket full of eggs, milk, bread, pasta, sauce, and cleaning supplies when it hit her. The magazine beside her declared _New Vegan Recipes!_ and Quinn silently cursed, shutting her eyes in frustration and stupidity. Because, come on, of course it couldn't be that easy.

Quinn put back everything in her basket and stood in the middle of aisle eight lost and irritated. _What the hell do vegans eat?_ Shoppers passed her by with annoyed expressions as she blocked their paths and it seemed like there wasn't a single employee working to answer the blonde's questions and she really didn't have time to waste standing in a grocery store: she still needed to get home, put her purchases away, clean, do laundry, unpack and decorate, cook diner, and God willing, _finally_ shower.

The blonde covered her face and screamed into her palms: being a Stepford Wife was _way_ harder than it looked. "Okay, Fabray, you can do this." Expelling a large breath, the blonde purposefully stalked back up to the checkout lane and grabbed the magazine declaring new vegan recipes. She quickly thumbed through the pages until she found vegan baked ziti with roasted vegetables and decided that that sounded good enough.

And it was lucky she _did_ have the magazine, because it reminded her of something else: she would need a lot more than _just_ food. Things like pans, pots, dishes, cooking utensils—knives, measuring cups, Pam, graters—eating utensils, spices, herbs, oil…the list went on and on.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it! _Quinn screamed loudly in her head, because no way she curse out loud, still a Christian at heart…sort of. $300 wasn't looking like a lot of money anymore—scratch that. $289 wasn't looking like a lot of money anymore; she had paid for the cab after all. The blonde replaced her meager basket and upgraded to a large cart…she'd need it. She gripped the handlebar tightly and took deep breaths in and out several times before propping up the magazine in the front carrier and set off to work.

Aisle by Aisle.

Quinn mentally calculated everything she placed into the cart: plastic forks, knives, and spoons; $7.75. Paper plates; $2.99. One metal pot; $7.99. One metal pan: $5.95. One casserole dish; $9.99. One wooden spoon; $1.05. Measuring cups and spoons; $10.99. A set of stainless steal knives in different sizes; $29.95. Two mugs and two glasses: $3.99. A blender: $16.99.

_Thank God for grapes_, Quinn thought as she picked them secretively off their vines. No, she couldn't afford to buy them, but she was starving and they were the only thing she could sneak to munch on.

One eggplant, one large red onion, two yellow peppers, virgin olive oil, sea salt, table salt, sixteen ounces of ziti, one bunch of fresh spinach, non-dairy mozzarella cheese, fresh garlic, red peppers, fennel seed, two pounds of tomatoes, ground pepper, are you still reading this, table pepper, organic sugar, regular sugar, thyme, parsley, flour, corn starch, almond extract, cinnamon, turmeric, French bread, margarine, oven mitts, laundry detergent, two sponges, a broom and two bottles of Green Works cleaning supplies and of course the vegan magazine later and Quinn's jaw was on the floor; She had just spent $275 on dinner that night, breakfast the next morning, and cleaning supplies that would probably only last a freaking week considering how surprisingly messy Rachel Berry was. Real life was _expensive! _

"Do you have any coupons?" The cashier lazily asked Quinn as she popped her gum and inspected her nails. _Coupons! I have to get some of those! _Quinn thought as she shook her head. She did manage to sign up for a Club Carrier Card for discounts; it knocked thirty dollars off the bill.

Quinn-the-pack-mule was weighed down with all of her bags as she trekked home—she would have to walk the thirty-some odd blocks back to the apartment because she couldn't afford to take a cab. Her feet were killing her—her white slip-ons were rubbing her ankles raw and her instep was throbbing—and her back was aching, her arms were exhausted, and her hair kept falling into her face. By the time Quinn got home she could only muster the energy to dump her purchases onto the living room floor before collapsing onto the bed.

The blonde briefly considering napping—she just had the longest day of her life and it wasn't near over. But everything she still needed to accomplish kept zipping through her head. Groaning loudly, Quinn dragged herself out of the bedroom and over to the fallen bags from the grocery store and put everything away. Dinner would only take about an hour so she now set her sights on cleaning.

"Yay." Quinn said dully. She changed into some of Rachel's clothes—a pair of sweatpants, a flannel long-sleeved shirt, and put her hair back with a bandana—and gathered up all of their dirty laundry. "I _hate_ laundry rooms." The blonde breathed out as she threw everything into two washing machines and dumped some detergent inside. After starting the machine, Quinn tiredly crawled up the four flights of stairs—the elevator was being repaired, of course—and looked around the messy kitchen, living room, bathroom, and bedroom.

"I _hate_ you, Rachel Berry." Quinn mumbled before she started cleaning. Dusting was first, then sweeping; scrubbing the bathtub, sink, and toilet was next. Unpacking boxes took a while because once the blonde realized there was nowhere to put most of their things—_we need drawers!—_Quinn ended up repacking almost everything. There were no nails to hang things, no tabletops to place pictures, no pretty curtains to make the place appear cozy, and nothing but drab white paint to stare at.

It was somewhere between being on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor, using the rough side of the light blue sponge Quinn purchased because she thought it was _such a pretty color_ and blushing furiously while she folded Rachel's underwear, the blonde considered returning back to Lima. She was still starving—surprisingly the grapes from the grocery store and the uncooked pasta weren't filling—she was still filthy, and she was wearing Rachel Berry's stupid clothes as she cleaned the midget's stupid apartment, before she cooked the diva her freaking _stupid_ dinner!

"I _hate_ you, Rachel Berry!" Quinn screamed after she cut her finger with the knife she was using to chop the fresh spinach. The blonde sucked on her cut and tried to remember why she was doing all of this. _Make Rachel happy, you stay. Help her with her future, she gets rich. Rachel gets rich, you get rich. Eyes on the prize, Fabray. _

So Quinn cubed, cut, cooked, chopped, crushed, sprinkled, stirred, simmered, minced, pinched, boiled, and baked with a renewed sense of purpose.

It didn't stop her from cursing Rachel again when she burned her first attempt at the sauce. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it! _But another deep breath and she tried again. Even though dinner should have only taken around an hour, three hours later Quinn was smiling brightly as she looked down at her creation. It smelled freaking amazing! And it was ten of ten at night; Rachel would be home soon. The blonde was glad she started cooking early. Although she knew her way around a kitchen, experience told her that you should always start early with a new recipe. She thought all she would need is to keep it heated in the oven on a low setting…but now she would just let it cool as she awaited Rachel's arrival.

Scooting some large boxes together to make a makeshift table, Quinn wondered what the diva would say once she arrived home. The apartment was clean. Laundry was done and hanging in the closet. Food was in the fridge and cabinets. And things that could be unpacked, were. The blonde started getting nervous as she lit a few candles to add to the ambiance.

She waited as patiently as possible with her hands folded on top of the cardboard box-table and looked over at the paper plates, plastic flatware, bottled waters, and steaming casserole dish with a sense of pride. Maybe she was just famished, but to Quinn, she had done a phenomenal job with dinner.

No doubt about it, she hated Rachel Berry a lot more today then she had her entire high school experience combined. And sure, she had to wrap toilet paper around her war wound because they didn't have band aids. And…okay, forgetting to buy dish detergent was a rookie move and having to use a bar of soap to clean up the supplies she made dinner with and the new cups she had bought that day resulting in semi suds-tasting water wasn't the _best _scenario_. _But she had gotten through it. Now all she needed was to clean up dinner and shower, and it would be bed time!

_But what if Rachel wants to talk? _

_She won't want to talk; it's been along day for her too. _

_Are you seriously delusional enough to think Rachel freaking Berry _won't_ want to talk?_

_Whatever, it doesn't mean I have to contribute. _

_Don't you think she'll want to know why the hell we're in New York with her?_

_Jesus…why the hell _are _we in New York with her?_

_Um…because we were homeless. _

_Yeah, I know that, but why does _she_ want us here?_

…_Maybe she was just lonely? _

_She must have been pretty freaking lonely if her only option for company is _us!

_I wasn't _that_ bad to her!_

…

_What? I wasn't! I haven't been _actually_ mean to Rachel Berry in at least a year. _

_What about the rumor? _

_Oh, fine, six months, tops. _

…

_All right, two months! But I stand by what I said, those jeans totally made it look like she was hiding something in her crotch! _

_You just felt you had to announce it to the whole auditorium before her solo? _

_I didn't know my mic was on! _

_Be serious, Fabray. Rachel brought us here…so why? _

_I still stand by my theory; she's lonely. _

_We haven't spoken to her in a month! _

_Thank you, I remember the last time we talked…didn't need you to bring it up!_

_We told her we loved her and then attacked her!_

_So what? She kissed us too, you know!_

_But the last thing we said to her was "I just wanted to go to New York with you!" _

…_So? _

_So? So don't you think it's a tad odd that we confessed our love to her and now are living with her?_

…_Maybe?_

_Come on!_

_Okay! It's weird! But it's not like Rachel is into us! And hello, she probably didn't believe us when we said that. _

_The kiss was kind of convincing, don't ya think?_

_There's no way…wait…do…do you think…_

_Um, yeah! We told her we loved her, we made out, _we_ broke it up, and a month later she tracks us down and brings us to New York to live with her. I think so, yeah. _

_No…Rachel…Rachel doesn't…she doesn't _like_ us like us. Just…_

_Just what? We made her life hell. She was a miserable person those last few months of high school. We tell her we love her and now we're here. I think in a biiiiig gay way! _

_Pft, no way. _

_Yes way! _

_No. _

_She's gay for us. _

_Stop that. _

_She has a big ol' lesbian crush on us and now we're gonna have to smooch her and hold her man-hands as we frolic in a big gay flower field with our half a dozen adopted Jewish babies! _

_Not going to happen. _

_We just spent the whole day shopping, cleaning, and cooking for her. Hello! Vegan dinner, box-table for two! The apartment lights are dimmed, candles are lit, and we're waiting for our lesbian life-partner to get home from a long day at work. Admit it, Fabray, we've gone the gay-way. _

_Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! _

_Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But come on…what if she _does_ have a crush on us? Huh? Then what? _

_Then…I'll…go back to Lima. _

_Uh huh. And then what? _

_I don't know, I'll figure it out! _

…_Or…_

_Or what? _

_Come on, Quinn, think about it! If Rachel Berry were to have a crush on us, all of this would be so much easier! _

…_How do you mean? _

_Sure. If we were to _just_ be friends with her, loyal to her or whatever, she'd be loyal back. But come on, Quinn! _Friends_ don't pay their friends' rent! _Friends_ don't give their friends money when they get rich and famous! _Friends_ don't make sure that their friends are financially stable in every way! _

_God! What are you saying, you're driving me crazy! _

_If Rachel Berry were to fall in love with us, if _we_ pretended to be in love with Rachel Berry, then maybe the diva would continue taking care of us. We'd be set for life once she makes it big. We're living rent free! We don't have to pay for food! We've got it made! _

_You do remember everything we've gone through today, correct? I would hardly say we've got it made. _

_Do you think Rachel will be successful one day? _

_Absolutely. That's the safest bet I'll ever make. _

_Exactly! And if we were there with her every step of the way, pretending to be in love with her? Hello! Jackpot! _

_This is sick, even for us. _

_Ahhh, but you're considering it. _

…_Maybe! But _only_ because I honestly can't go back to living in a freaking laundry room! _

_So…what'dya say? You in? Continue to play along? _

…_What would I have to do? _

_Pretend to like the girl. Take care of her or whatever. Be her cheerleader! Surely Rachel Berry is easier to cheer for than McKinley's football team. And she's not nearly as bad as Sue Sylvester. _

…_But what if she wants to…_you_ know…_

_Claim we're waiting for marriage. _

_But what about-_

_Just say that we've learned from past mistakes and we're waiting until we're really serious with someone—marriage serious. _

_This is sick. _

_It's survival, sweetie. Lie and manipulate. _

_And she'll go for it? _

_You saw her the last few months of school—she was miserable! She probably so lonely that she'd date _anyone!

_Well _that's_ not okay!_

_So you've grown morals now, suddenly? _

_No! I mean, she can't like just anyone, she has to like _us! _We have to _really_ make her fall for us or else the first guy that comes along and smiles at her and we're back on the first bus to Lima! _

_Now you're thinking. _

_Oh, shit! She's home! _

_Shh, act natural. _

_Stop talking to me! _

_Okay, sorry! _

Rachel had taken her time getting home that night, in no rush to see Quinn. Thinking about spending the evening with the icy blonde was making her stomach churn uncomfortably.

It had been a long day. She was exhausted and starving. As she drug her feet up the steps towards her apartment, she silently cursed whoever had been cooking resulting in the incredible aroma that wafted throughout the building. Rachel mentally flipped through the different take-out menus she had at home, settling on Thai because it was the closest which meant she'd be eating the quickest, before her thoughts traveled back to Quinn.

How was she going to tell the blonde she had made a mistake? Of course she'd have to get rid of her—there was no _way_ she was going to deal with her old tormenter day in day out!

To play for time, Rachel jingled her keys in her hand outside the door to apartment 4d. Of course, Quinn might not be inside at all. She could go in to find her TV, box of DVDs, and the $300 her fathers had given her for food gone…along with the blonde. Although it would be annoying re-buying all of her favorite films, it might be a small price to pay for getting rid of Quinn.

Rachel's stomach growled angrily and she rolled her eyes as she jammed the key into the lock; her hunger was making up her mind for her—she had to go in there. As Rachel turned the knob she held her head high and breezily entered the apartment as though coming home to Quinn would be the most natural thing in the world. What she saw before her…_wasn't. _

There, sitting in her newly cleaned living room, in front of a homemade dinner, amongst the twinkling of candlelight, was Quinn Fabray. Rachel couldn't close her mouth if her life depended on her; she was astounded.

Sweeping into the apartment, she bypassed the kitchen and living room and made a beeline for the bedroom: bed made, clothes cleaned, take-out containers gone, closet organized.

She dashed into the bathroom: bathtub scrubs, sink cleaned, toilet bowl winking back at her.

She passed Quinn and scurried over to the kitchen and opened the cabinets, drawers, fridge, and freezer only to find food before she stumbled back into the living room.

Quinn had watched Rachel move around the apartment anxiously. The brunette looked happy…well…more surprised than happy. But she did look happy. Quinn nervously bit her lip as she awaited Rachel's response. This was it, she was about to find out if she passed or failed.

But Rachel didn't say anything. She has just collapsed in front of the makeshift table in stunned silence; eyes still wide, mouth still hanging open. "Yo-you did all this?" The diva finally got out.

Quinn nodded silently, her stomach fluttering uncomfortably. "It-it's…_wow._" Quinn let out a small sigh of relief when she saw Rachel's face light up.

_Why would Quinn _do_ all of this?_ Rachel thought as she scanned the meal before her. "Is this…Oh my, God…is this…_vegan_?" Again, Quinn just nodded. If she were sitting in a chair instead of on the floor, she'd be on the edge of her seat.

"Quinn…this is…_amazing._" Quinn went back to holding her breath, however, once she caught sight of Rachel's furrowed brow.

_Why would Quinn do all of this? _

_She's in love with us, remember? _

_But…I thought…somehow I thought that she wasn't serious. _

_She came with us to New York, did she not? _

_But…Clean for us? Shop? Cook? Vegan?_

_Maybe she really does love us? _

_But…why? I mean…no, yeah, I mean why! She's been nothing but horrible to us!_

_Maybe it was because she had a deep-seeded denial and was acting out through cruelty. She did apologize after all. _

_But…wow._

_She loves us. _

_You really think so? _

_Totally. _

_But…I just…I can't _believe _it! _

_Why? Because Finn has hurt and rejected us too many times to count? Because Jesse St. James used and abused us? Because Shelby was in and out of our life so fast we got a crick in our neck? Because we had a grand total of zero friends throughout our whole high school experience? _

_Well…yeah…_

_I know. I'm a little skeptical too. _

_God! She's just staring at us with those big hazel eyes. What should we do? _

_Well eating is a good option, we're absolutely famished. _

_It does smell really good. _

_The whole apartment complex is probably jealous! _

_Quinn Fabray made us dinner. Wow…I just…Wow. _

_She loves us. _

…_But we don't love her. _

_No…we don't. _

_But I must mention, I do _love_ having her here if this is what she has to offer! _

_Oh, I know, right! _

_She cleaned! _

_She did laundry!_

_She scrubbed the toilet! _

_She made a vegan meal that looks insanely tasty! _

_But we don't love her. _

…_We could. _

_What? No we couldn't! _

_Why not? It's not like we're ruler straight. _

_Well…no. _

_And Quinn _is_ pretty. _

_Well…sure. _

_And she cooks and cleans. _

_Those _are _rather attractive qualities. _

_And we're lonely. _

_So lonely. _

…

…

_It wouldn't be too terrible. _

_And we'd repay her. _

_We'd take care of her—pay rent, food, clothes…whatever. _

_She needs us!_

_She was homeless before we came along. _

_We gave her a place to live. _

_A bed! _

_A shower!_

_Food! _

_So it's not like we're using her. _

_Noooo! We're providing. _

_And, hey, who knows? Maybe one day we _could_ love her._

_At this point I'll settle for _liking _her!_

_I'll be honest, dinner looks so amazing I'm halfway to proposing. _

_You're hilarious. _

_This will be perfect. _

_No muss, no fuss. _

_No dating. _

_No heartbreak. _

_We won't be lonely with Quinn here. _

_It's perfect! _

"So…are you, like, gonna try some?" Quinn finally asked after Rachel had zoned out for a while.

"Oh! Yes, of course!" She spooned the ziti onto her plate and took her first taste. _OHHHHH my GOD! I'm going to spend the rest of my _life_ with Quinn Fabray! _"Quinn!" Rachel moaned, her eyes still shut as she savored the meal. "This is absolutely delicious!"

Quinn's back finally loosened at Rachel's compliment. She had passed. The rest of dinner was spent in silence; both girls just enjoying the food. Once they were both done, Quinn silently got up and quickly put away the leftovers, tossed their trash, and stacked the dishes into the sink where she would clean them later once Rachel wasn't around to see that she was using a bar of soap to do so.

The blonde stood over the sink as she waited for the sound of the bedroom door closing, but it never came. Quinn looked over her shoulder to see Rachel standing in the archway of the kitchen with her arms folded and a look of deep concentration on her face. "Why did you do all this?" Rachel asked as she swept her arm out motioning to the apartment.

The blonde had been ready for this. She briefly closed her eyes as she gathered her courage and turned to face the brunette fully as she leaned back against the sink. "I told you…" Quinn bit her lip. After this, there was no going back. "I'm in love with you."

Rachel's wide eyes looked away from Quinn as she calmed her suddenly racing heart and fought off her nervousness. "Since when?" The diva finally got out.

"Since…around…" The blonde recalled the lie she had practiced over and over again. She painstakingly went over the timeline of her and Rachel and decided on an event that would most convince the diva. "The pregnancy." Quinn whispered. Rachel's round eyes blinked once then twice, her mouth still open.

"Wow." She breathed out, stunned. _She really loves us. It all…it all sort of makes sense now. Everything-the insults, the drawings, her anger towards me…everything. _

"This is how it will be from now on." Quinn didn't look up from her feet, but nodded towards the makeshift table. "I'll be there for you, I'll take care of you, I'll be whatever you need me to be." The blonde finished, hoping her voice sounded more confident then it did to her own ears. "So…why am I here?" Quinn's heart sped up as she waited. Life would be _a lot_ simpler if Rachel liked her. Maybe not in love with the blonde, but if Rachel had some sort of affection for Quinn then seducing the diva and ensuring her stay with the brunette would be tons easier.

The brunette was thrown, never before seeing Quinn appear so nervous and unsure of herself. It was kind of endearing. But she had a question to answer. Rachel was still biting her lip. She knew what she _should_ say and she knew what she _wanted_ to say. It all depended on this. If she told Quinn she felt the same, the blonde would stay, keep her company, take care of her in a way Rachel so desperately needed. So what if it was a lie? She _could_ one day feel the same…maybe?

"Because…" Quinn held her breath. "I've always," Rachel's eyes scanned the room in desperation as she quickly weighed out all of her options. "I've always liked you, as well, Quinn." Rachel finally said, her head dropping down at the lie but grateful it was out. Quinn took another sigh of relief but couldn't help but grinning.

_Wait…what?_

"You _have?" _Quinn asked, completely shocked by the admission. Rachel motioned for Quinn to follow her and the two retook their seats on the floor in front of the box-table.

"I've liked you…" Rachel glanced down at her folded hands and demanded her inner actor to come out and play. She needed to convince Quinn to stay. The brunette had _no_ desire in finding a partner. She had been hurt by too many and she didn't want to go through heart-ache again. "I've liked you since I first met you." Rachel said with a little more confidence, looking up to catch confused hazel eyes.

"You have?" Quinn deadpanned, not expecting that answer.

"Well, Quinn," Rachel said, leaning back slightly on her hands as her lie grew. "You are very beautiful," The blonde's eyebrow quirked at the compliment, but waited. "But from the start you were always cruel to me so I never really thought anything of my attraction." Quinn's eyes widened as Rachel continued. "After time, I just got use to my feelings but always dismissed them. But after your confession, I could no longer deny it."

The two girls were silent as they examined their hands, both _very_ sure they were in over their heads but happy for their companionship. "Well," Quinn finally said, clearing her shaky voice. "As you very well know, I am not a virgin." She managed a bitter laugh and bit her lip before continuing. But at the remark, Rachel's shoulders stiffened. _Where is she going with this?_ Rachel wondered, suddenly _very _nervous.

"Be that as it may," Quinn went on. "I would like to wait until marriage to have sex again." The blonde swallowed nervously as she awaited Rachel's response. But because her head was down, she didn't see the immense relief in Rachel's eyes.

"Yes, no, I completely understand." Rachel all but yelled. "Intercourse is a very big deal and I regret not waiting for marriage or until twenty-five…whatever ultimately came first." Quinn couldn't help it, she laughed a little as she looked over at Rachel.

"Twenty-five?" She questioned, staring at the brunette in amusement. Rachel became shy under the blonde's gaze, and ducked her head.

"That was always the plan. After winning several Tony awards I would finally make love to my future husb-um…_whoever_ and we'd have children." She shook her head at her naïve plan and even managed to return Quinn's smile.

"Well," Quinn whispered, still grinning slightly. "That can still be the plan. New York can be our fresh start. We both want to wait, so we'll wait." The moment the words were out of her mouth, Quinn mentally freaked out. What was she saying? What was she _implying_? And by the stunned look on the diva's face, Rachel caught it too. The blonde didn't mean a fresh start with _Quinn_, she just meant in general…but considering their conversation, Quinn's comment sounded like she meant the two of them, which she really didn't.

"So…you're planning…on…_marrying me?" _Rachel stuttered, not sure where that came from.

"Um…well…I just…I thought…I mean it's down the road…I just…" Quinn stammered, uncertain how'd she'd get out of this one.

Without meaning to, however, the image of she and Quinn in the future flashed through Rachel's mind. Quinn _was_ beautiful, and she'd make a perfect trophy wife. And with a woman, Rachel thought, she wouldn't have to wait until her Broadway career was over to have children; she wouldn't have to put her career on hold at all! They could start having babies whenever, Quinn could carry them! It would be the best of both worlds; babies _and _career!

"No that sounds amazing." Rachel mumbled, still lost in her thoughts and not at all realizing she had spoken. Quinn physically blanched at the brunette's comment. _Jesus, this is easier than I thought it would be!_ Quinn mused, amazed that she had just ensured her future in one day.

"So…we're engaged?" Quinn asked, her mind racing a million miles per second of what it meant for better and for worse.

"I-I guess." Rachel concluded, her thoughts going crazy as well. She wouldn't have to bother finding someone suitable. She wouldn't have to worry about getting heartbroken. She could _hardly_ be a spinster for the rest of her life and still hold public appeal, so marriage was a _must_. But now she'd have the picture-perfect life and she didn't have to even leave her apartment—her brief trip to Lima not included—to accomplish it.

Both girls looked up at one another in awe. Had Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray _really_ just agree to marry one another?

The old Quinn was yelling at the new Quinn, screaming at her for following her mother's footsteps in settling. The old Rachel was yelling at the new Rachel, screaming at her for settling at all. But without Rachel, Quinn was stuck…no _fucked. _And without Quinn Rachel was lonely and heartbroken. It was win, win. The fact that they were both lying to one another didn't really cross their minds. After all, they both silently vowed that they'd be true to the other, so it wasn't like they were playing on hurting the girl across from them.

Rachel would provide for Quinn and in return the blonde would take care of the brunette. See, win, win.

"I guess we should…" Quinn almost suggested that they shake on their proposal, but considering it was a _marriage_ proposal, she thought it a little tacky and cold. "…kiss on it?" The blonde finished, her palms growing sweaty as she bit her lip nervously.

"Yes…that sounds…nice." Rachel finally said, completely shocked that she just agreed to marry Quinn Fabray and that they were acting awkwardly, not at all how she imagined her marriage proposal going. A part of both girls considered that if they weren't lying to the other, a marriage proposal this early in a courtship would be lunacy. But they didn't care. They were both just happy to have someone locked-in. Someone that had made the biggest promise to stick around and _be _there for them. Something neither one of them ever really had.

Slowly and silently, both girls sat up a little to lean over their makeshift table. Their eyes met before fluttering shut, inches separating their mouths before connecting softly. It was more than a peck, their lips slid together a little too intimately for it to be considered innocent, but neither made a move to deepen it.

After a moment they both broke apart, shyly appraising each other as they sat back down. Warmth swelled within them at that moment. They _knew_ the girl across from them in a way no one else ever did or could. They knew the other's worst traits and were there to witness their painful moments. They knew the best and worst. They had each other. They had _only_ each other, and neither girl could shake the feeling of safety; not only because of their familiarity, but because they knew that they had a future. In all the bad, they had one another.

In stunned silence they just stared at each other. Never in a million years had either thought they'd be in this moment—and feel so…complete. There was no wondering or worrying if they'd ever find someone to love them. No questions if they'd end up alone. The answers were sitting on the other side of four boxes and it somehow felt wonderful.

But they were still Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry. And the blonde still thought the diva was annoying. And the brunette still thought the ex Cheerio was a bitch. So Rachel faked a loud yawn and stretched dramatically. "Well I'm beat."

"It's been a long day." Quinn replied quickly, not looking at Rachel as she quickly got to her feet and moved into the kitchen to finish cleaning up.

"I'll…see you in the morning?" The diva asked hesitantly as she watched from the archway of the kitchen as Quinn rolled up her sleeves.

"Mmm hmm." The blonde replied, turning on the water to clearly show Rachel that she had work to do so the girl would leave her to it.

"Okay…well…good night." Quinn felt the softest touch of lips on her cheek before it was quickly gone. All but the warmth that it left behind. Slowly, that warmth spread as her face flushed. She didn't dare move until she heard the bedroom door close. The blonde finished up the dishes, scrubbing harder than necessary but mostly because she was trying to distract herself with how nice the kiss had felt, and staggered into the bathroom to take her long-awaited shower.

It had been the day from hell for Quinn. But at least it had turned out all right. Phase one had been completed: she had passed the test and ensured her future. All she had to do now was continue taking care of Rachel and make damn well certain the diva reached her dreams.

It was well after midnight when the blonde finally got under the covers and into bed next to the dozing Rachel. Quinn turned on her side to stare at the diva and really _truly _wondered if she could do this; if she could spend the rest of her life with Rachel Berry. But at that exact moment, Rachel let out a loud snore and Quinn blew out a large breath. For better or worse, she'd have to. "I hate you, Rachel Berry." The blonde mumbled before she turned over onto her other side. Trying to ignore all she'd have to contend with the next day. Trying to ignore the fact that she'd have to get a part time job to support them. Trying to ignore Rachel's snores. And trying to ignore the fact that the spot on her cheek where the brunette had kissed her still felt warm. And actually really nice


	3. Chapter 3 Dirty Dancing

Chapter Three: Dirty Dancing

"Mmmm, sweetie, breakfast smells magnificent!" Rachel gushed as she swept out of the bedroom, ready for her day, and strode into the kitchen with a smile.

"Thanks, baby. Don't forget your shoes." The blonde smiled over her shoulder and flipped the vegan French toast. Rachel chuckled and rolled her eyes playfully as she recalled earlier in the week when she _had_ forgotten her shoes and the blonde had to deliver them to Rachel for class.

"How could I forget?"

"You look beautiful this morning." Quinn cooed as she ducked her head to receive Rachel's lips on her pale cheek.

"You say that every morning." Rachel giggled and she retrieved two plates from the top cabinet.

"That's because it's true every morning." Quinn winked. Rachel giggled again as she held out her plate to receive the first slice of breakfast before slipping behind the blonde to place her meal on the dining room table.

"You're too good to me." Rachel sighed as she reentered the kitchen to fill up two glasses of juice for the pair.

"Can't happen," Quinn denied before turning off the stove and bringing her own breakfast to the table. "There's never 'good enough' where you're concerned." The blonde finished as she took her seat. Rachel blushed and leaned over the table to pop a strawberry into Quinn's waiting mouth before licking off the lingering juice on her own finger. They exchanged smitten smiles before digging into their breakfast, going over their plans for the day.

"What time does class start?"

"Nine sharp. I have Modern Dance: a history. Then at ten I have a tutorial for Method Acting: _The art of the pause_. I break for lunch until twelve for Historical Ballet; which, I'm _so_ excited for. And I'll finish with Shakespearian Stage which ends a little passed five; just in time for work."

"So you're enjoying Julliard then?" Identical smiles broke on both girls' faces before Quinn nodded.

"Yes, Rachel. I'm enjoying all my classes at Julliard." The brunette nodded happily as she devoured her scrumptious French toast. After Rachel was finished with her meal, she quickly swept from the dining area of their living room to head into the bathroom to finish getting ready. In that time, Quinn methodically cleaned up the mess from breakfast and took out Rachel's lunch—"chicken" and sundried tomato sandwiches with fresh pesto basil—the blonde had prepared earlier that morning from the fridge and put it into the brunette's lunch pail—pink with gold stars—to wait for Rachel by the door.

Soon the diva was before her, accepting the lunch pail from Quinn's hand, and exchanging a quick peck on the lips from the blonde. They smiled adoringly at one another as Rachel readjusted her bag over her shoulder.

"I'll see you after I hit the streets for auditions?" Rachel asked.

"Just be home by seven for dinner; we're having soba noodles with peanut sauce." Rachel moaned with a smile before licking her lips at the thought.

"My favorite."

"I know. So knock them dead at auditions and hurry home to me." Quinn smiled softly before placing another kiss on the brunette's lips.

"I always do." Rachel simpered. "I love you."

"And I love you." Quinn grinned again as she opened the door for Rachel. "Bye, baby."

"Bye, sweetie." The brunette waved, holding eye contact with Quinn from the elevator as the blonde stood in the doorway of their apartment. They blew kisses to one another as the sliding doors of the lift closed and proclaimed their love one last time before they were fully shut.

"Bye, Rach." Quinn said to the empty hallway, a wide, tightlipped smile on her face. "I really hate you." She singsonged then rolled her eyes before she all but slammed the door to the apartment closed. In the elevator, Rachel's body broke out in a mass of shivers as she swiped at her lips to dispel all trace of the blonde's kisses.

"Yeah, I'll hurry home," Rachel muttered as she watched the lift's numbers descend to the ground floor. "After hours of stalling." The diva finished with a grumble.

This…was their routine over the past year: Rachel would get up every morning at six am for her workout regimen. Once she was in the shower, Quinn would slide out from under the covers, throw on a robe, and bleary-eye her way into the kitchen to start breakfast. While the meal was cooking, the blonde would throw together something for Rachel's lunch around the time the tiny diva was just getting out of the shower and drying her hair. Once the brunette was dressed and ready, they'd sit down at their kitchen table—a purchase Quinn had made almost three weeks after they started living together—and enjoy their meal while exchanging sickeningly sweet pleasantries and discussing their upcoming day.

Rachel would finish getting ready and Quinn would clean up and they say goodbye at the door. All of that you saw. But once Rachel was out of sight, Quinn hurriedly cleaned up the mess the diva had made as she had gotten ready—towels on the floor of the bathroom, toothpaste drying in the sink, hair in the drain, and clothes stewed around the bedroom; both dirty and clean.

Then Quinn would thoroughly begin cleaning up the apartment—Monday Quinn scoured the bathtub, toilet, sink, and floor of the bathroom, Tuesday she dusted, mopped, Windexed the windows, and fluffed the living room pillows. Wednesday the blonde tackled the kitchen; reorganizing pantries, cabinets, drawers, and the fridge before getting on her hands and knees and scrubbing the floor. Thursday the bedroom would be tidied; bed made, floor vacuumed, windows washed, closet reorganized by color, and Friday was laundry day and the grocery shopping. After she would accomplish her chores, quickly yet efficiently, the blonde would hop into the shower to get ready for work.

Her first week in New York, Quinn had found an ad someone had posted needing a dog walker. It was the perfect job: convenient, easy, flexible, and well-paying. In time, word spread and she received more clientele. She was by no means rich, but at twelve dollars a walk per dog—each dog was walked twice a day—five days a week, she had plenty of money to furnish and decorate their apartment with a lot of money left over for savings and frivolous things. Like Broadway shows, or a Netflicks account, a nicer TV, ordering take-out, clothes shopping, electric toothbrushes…The list went on.

After her dog-walking duties, the blonde would strap on her backpack and hurriedly pace the ten blocks to Julliard for her classes...well…_Rachel's_ classes, actually. A fun fact about Julliard: the first two years as a student aren't _just_ spent concentrating on your major. Oh no. You must take Liberal Arts classes. Well…I should say, _most_ of the students should. Those there on full specialized scholarships are exempt. But Rachel Berry was not one of those people. She needed to attend and pass her histories of music, art, dance, and acting classes among others. She needed to sit in a classroom several hours of her day and week in order to be eligible to advance to another semester at Julliard.

Not many students audition for outside shows. Because they are far too busy. With all their classes—be they the classroom kind or the stage variety—there is just too much to contend with therefore finding and going on auditions is difficult; especially in those first few years. Never mind _actually_ performing in non-Julliard shows. Between memorizing lines, showing up for rehearsals, and all the different shows; there would be no _way_ the average Julliard undergrad could do all of that!

So Quinn would sit in her desk, take copious notes, raise her hand and participate, and ace every test. No. This is not legal. And yes, Rachel would most certainly get expelled if she had ever been found out. But both blonde and brunette agreed that Rachel should be auditioning as soon as possible to get herself out there. The sooner she was discovered, the sooner she'd _make it_.

"And besides," Rachel would reason every time the subject was brought up, "I am already well-versed on all knowledge of, and pertaining to, entertainment and performance. To belittle my self-worth, impede my freedom, and stifle my creativity should be punishable!" So Quinn would take her classes. She'd take the tests and write the papers. And to be honest, Quinn loved it. She liked being in a classroom atmosphere again and she learned so much. She couldn't imagine how the useless information would ever help in the "real world," but it was fun, interesting, and challenging. It also freed up Rachel to go on auditions.

So far the diva wasn't having much luck, but only because often times she didn't want to accept the parts given to her. She was looking for something that could really showcase her abilities, sink her teeth into, not a part in the chorus as she swayed in the back; that was someone else's job.

After classes, Quinn raced home to walk her charges again before quickly embarking upon her homework for that night and starting dinner for her and Rachel. After the diva finished her performing classes, she'd head out for auditions, speak with local play houses, and sign up for open-mic nights before trekking home to perfect her voice and dance numbers. Quinn would run lines with the brunette most nights, play for Rachel on the expensive keyboard the blonde had purchased while the diva would sing, or critique dances Rachel had choreographed with Quinn's help.

The night would usually end with Quinn massaging Rachel's shoulders or feet, breaking up the tension from the brunette's very physical day. Sometimes they'd watch a movie and eat a light dessert the brunette had made—Quinn may have been excellent with dishes, but Rachel was the baker. Or they'd just pass out, too exhausted from their long day to do much else. But it was their routine. A routine that they had mastered and a dance they had perfected from cohabitating with one another for little over a year.

But they still didn't like each other.

Quinn resented Rachel with an almost impressive drive. The blonde _hated_ cleaning up after the messy brunette. She _detested_ walking the dogs. She _loathed_ writing papers _for_ Rachel and wasting away in the _diva's_ classes—and not her own. And Quinn _despised_ vegan food! She missed meat! Glorious meat that made her feel greasy and gross. And cheese! But most of all, the thing that Quinn _truly reviled_, was having to pretend to love the diva. Kissing her, touching her, holding her hand while they spent their weekends at the Farmer's market, or taking walks through different parks, or sitting through Broadway shows that Quinn paid for with her hard earned money, or holding Rachel throughout the night while the brunette slept soundly. Quinn hated all these things.

Rachel hated the fact that Quinn was there at all. The blonde represented _everything_ Rachel couldn't stand. Every bad memory. Every insecurity. Every single thing that Rachel abhorred about herself. Quinn symbolized everything Rachel failed at. And to make matters worse, now Quinn would become the reason Rachel _made it_. Their apartment was decorated to the nines; clean and perfect like the blonde herself and whenever the brunette stepped foot into a room and looked around at how put-together everything was, she mentally sneered.

But Rachel didn't ask Quinn to leave despite the numerous friends the brunette had made at school to keep her from being lonely. And Quinn didn't move out despite the fact that she had a small savings that would let her live just fine without the diva's help—perhaps not in New York City, but for sure in Lima or somewhere in Ohio. Both women ignored those minor details. They never spoke of them, obviously, both thinking the other was in love with them. But they also never spoke of their engagement either. They limited their kissing and touching to small pecks and hand holding, hugs, and cuddling. They didn't fight. They rarely spoke of anything other than Rachel's future stardom, and they spent as little time as possible with one another. They didn't go out with Rachel's friends, or at all for that matter—save trips to see musicals, shopping, and walks.

Rachel and Quinn were in a perpetual bubble of their own making and they worked extremely hard to preserve it. No one knew of their engagement and they had silently planned on keeping it that way. What was the point, really? Neither could stand the other. Quinn didn't have any friends to tell. And Rachel knew that if she told her Julliard peers about her fiancé she'd be forced to introduce them. The brunette didn't feel comfortable testing their bubble outside the apartment walls.

So every day was the same. Every kiss and conversation and grievance repeated day in and day out. It was calculated and arbitrary and sincere and fake. Because here's the thing: living with someone, day in, day out, makes two people grow in a way that they can't even pinpoint. Because somewhere down the line, despite the fading reasoning they began their separate scheming, Rachel and Quinn started relying on each other in a way neither could foresee.

Every time they'd cross the street, Quinn's hand would find the small of Rachel's back protectively. Whenever the blonde had to walk a dog on the weekend, Rachel would put on her shoes and tag along without being asked and Quinn started to mind less and less. Because Quinn started instinctually knowing where and when to attack a particularly nasty knot that had planted itself in the brunette's back. Rachel no longer needed to hear the blonde's assessments of her performances because she could read them on Quinn's face and valued each expression. Because sometimes Quinn would forget to mumble that she hated Rachel from the doorway of their apartment and it would slip Rachel's mind to wipe away Quinn's kiss.

They didn't know each other, not _really_. They both still wore masks just as they had in high school. But the dance that they had perfected over the last year had become effortless; that's including the affection. Quinn may have hated that Rachel slept soundly in her arms each night, but she never seemed to mind waking up in Rachel's in the morning. And Rachel may have hated that it was _Quinn Fabray_ that had decorated their apartment, but it didn't change the fact that their apartment was Rachel's favorite place; a spot she felt safe and at home.

They had built the bubble and protected it. But it was about to pop. They may have cultivated their facades, but they were going to be tested. Whether they wanted to believe it or not, they were each others favorite person now; their safe havens. And they were about to figure it out.

"Hey, girl." Jen greeted as Rachel strode down the aisle towards the stage where Jen was perched. "I didn't see you history of modern dance." That's because Quinn took it.

"I'm easily distracted so I tend to hide myself amongst the crowd. Whenever I sit near a friend I'm more inclined to chat rather than pay attention." This was always Rachel's excuse and it was usually accepted. Her friends had stopped saving her a seat the first month of their freshman year. "Where's Professor Morris?" The brunette asked as she jumped up to sit beside her friend.

"Probably screwing an undergrad. Any big plans for this weekend?" Jen asked casually as Tyler and Henry sat on either side of the girls. Rachel's weekend plans flashed through her head briefly—remembering to take in consideration whether or not Quinn had mentioned any pick-up dog walks—before she shook her head.

"Not that I can think of. Just the usual." Rachel, Jen, Tyler, and Henry had all survived their first year at Julliard together and were working on their second. Rachel's friends couldn't understand how easily Rachel had managed to get through her classes and, yet, still refused their invitations to socialize with them on the weekends. But they never gave up on asking.

"Well, since you don't have anything planned, how about you come out with us?" Jen ventured, wiggling her eyebrows with a cheesy grin, hoping Rachel would take the bait. Every time someone mentioned going out and invited the brunette, her heart would swell. _Finally_ there were people who seemed to like Rachel. But she never accepted. She didn't like the idea of leaving Quinn home alone and she didn't feel comfortable bringing the blonde.

"I can't, guys, I have far too much to compete with. The essay on ballet's early stages must be completed in a timely fashion so that I can give my full, undivided attention towards acquiring the lead in _A Sweetness_." _A Sweetness_ was an off-Broadway show that was slighted to be New York's newest darling. It hadn't even started casting and already the city was abuzz.

As per usual, Rachel's friends deflated at the rejection and internally grumbled at how easy the brunette made it all look. "Maybe next time, then." Henry mumbled before getting up and heading over to their other classmates. Tyler smiled weakly before following the other boy, leaving Rachel and Jen alone. They sat in silence for a moment before Jen finally spoke up.

"Rach, can I be honest?" Jen asked hesitantly.

"Of course, Jen, I would appreciate your honest-"

"You suck." Rachel blanched slightly at the comment and swallowed thickly. It had been a while since someone had said that to her and she was having bad high school flashbacks. "I love you a lot, Rach, but you're always blowing us off. Tyler and Henry are kind of getting sick of it… and I may be too." Jen muttered in a small voice.

Again, Rachel tried to breathe and remember that a Slushie wasn't headed her way. She really _did_ want to see her friends outside of school. She had _friends_. _Real_ friends for the first time in her life. They didn't placate the brunette. They didn't mumble sarcastic remarks when Rachel suggested something. They freely and willingly hung out with the diva and genuinely enjoyed spending time with her.

Lying about Quinn's existence was a lie of omission; therefore she didn't feel too guilty about it. Could Rachel _really_ lie? Could she tell her friends about her fiancé? She could hardly tell them the truth. Even _Rachel Berry_ knew that pretending to love someone just so that they'd be around to make you feel special was not okay.

"Jen," Rachel started cautiously, her head cocked as she stared at her swinging legs. "I-I have something to tell you." Jen nodded, her dark hair shaking slightly as she did, as she awaited the diva's response. "I…I always rebuffed your invitations to socialize because…well…I'm… caring for my sick, dying grandmother and am unable to be away from her for too long." Jen's mouth dropped open in astonishment, but Rachel immediately shook her head and silently prayed that Grandma Berry wouldn't suddenly drop dead. "No, that's a lie!"

Jen's eyes narrowed as she inspected the brunette. Rachel blew out a long breath before she turned to face her friend. "The truth is, I'm involved with someone and I'm not entirely sure if I'm willing to make introductions just yet." Jen's eyebrow was now cocked as she looked around the bustling auditorium.

"Ooookay?"

"You see…our relationship is quite…_complicated_, and…" But Rachel didn't even know what to say.

"Please tell me you're not sleeping with Professor Morris!" Jen pleaded. Rachel's eyes went wide and she stuttered to quell her friend's worries.

"Absolutely not! That is illegal, unprofessional, unseemly, and just…icky!" The brunette explained in distaste. "_She_ is…well…" Jen looked surprised for only a moment; not expecting to find out her friend was gay, but not exactly new to hearing it. It was Julliard after all. Rachel tried to find the right words to sum up Quinn Fabray. She considered everything from perfect to horrible. She bit her lip and finally settled on the truth…sort of.

"Quinn is amazing. I'm not entirely sure where I'd be without her…" Rachel went on to explain the blonde's past; everything from her upbringing—using Quinn's extremely religious past as an excuse for never making introductions; "Quinn's not entirely comfortable with her sexuality yet"— to the present. As the brunette spoke, Tyler and Henry joined them again and listened with rapt attention. Slowly, other students and friends sat down to hear the epic tale of Rachel and Quinn: a tortured story of two girls who denied their love for one another for so long. At the start of the diva's explanation, she had kept it simple and accurate. But the more her audience grew, so did Rachel's yarn.

The crowd _awwwed_ and _ooohhhed_ at all the right parts. They clutched their chests sadly as the diva described the lengths Quinn had gone through to deny her feelings throughout high school. They shook their heads when Rachel admitted kissing Finn, but only because Rachel too, was rejecting her true heart's desire. The girls and gay boys sighed and cooed when Rachel retold Quinn's declaration of her love—and then tutted and sighed deeper in envy when they found at the blonde had dramatically left the graduation party to do so. Silent tears were brushed away when the brunette informed them of how she discovered the love of her life homeless. They rejoiced when Rachel blushed and recapped bringing the blonde to New York. And the group clapped loudly and hooted as she replayed how romantic Quinn's proposal was. How simply _perfect_ the moment had been when the blonde broke out into song in the middle of their living room, surrounded by candles and roses, and dropped down to one knee.

"But she couldn't afford a ring." Rachel sighed dramatically as she looked down at her empty left ring finger. "She said, 'Rachel Berry, all I can give you is my love. I may not be able to place it on your finger. But, by _God, _I will do everything in my power to remind you each day how amazing you are to me. Until the day when I can slip that two carat, pink, princess-cut diamond with the one carat, perfect clarity-matching side-stones around your delicate and not at all manly finger, I'll have to settle for proving my love by attending to your every whim and fancy.'"

Rachel smiled shyly as the crowd _awwwed_ again. "So that's my story about how, I, Rachel Berry, wound up engaged to the head cheerleader, prom queen, and most popular girl at William McKinley." Her audience clapped and whistled and Rachel covered her face in false embarrassment.

"Inspiring." Henry whispered.

"Like Barbara." Tyler gushed back. The group slowly broke up, all chatting with each other about their own love lives or the incredible story they had just heard until it was only Jen and Rachel again. The diva was on a high. She swung her legs freely as she sat on the edge of the stage, reveling in her wonderful performance.

"Bull. Shit." Jen said frankly, staring down Rachel with a look of disbelief on her face. The brunette blanched.

"Wh-what? What do you mean?"

"That story was completely unbelievable." Rachel's eyes scanned the auditorium unseeing as she went over the whole tale.

"Which part?" She questioned, still not sure where her perfect performance could have gone wrong.

"The whole thing, Rachel! Come on! People like us don't land the prom queen! Head cheerleader! Most _popular _girl in school! That just _does_ not happen to a bunch of divas like ourselves. The fact that you made her blonde was the first sign, though. She cooks, cleans, shops, and _works_ _just for you_? That was just the icing on the ridiculous cake!" Rachel was appalled! Her mouth was wide open and her eyebrows were knitted together in complete offence.

"I'll have you know, _Jennifer_, before Quinn and I became an item, I dated the captain of the football team for two years, the resident 'bad boy' of the school who _also_ was on the football team, and a musical legend at our rival school, who, may I just add, was the most sought-after boy at Carmel high school. He even transferred schools just to be with me." Rachel said, folding her arms across her puffed-out chest.

Jen rolled her eyes. "Look, Rach. You're hot stuff and all that, but _Come. On!_ Look, if you don't like to go out or you're really religious, and it goes against your beliefs to go to bars or whatever, just tell me. It's cool." Rachel was indignant. She hopped to her feet and huffed.

"Quinn and I would be quite _pleased_ to accept your invitation to socialize this weekend, and we look forward to proving you wrong!" Rachel then turned on her heel and did what the diva did best; stormed out. It wasn't like Professor Morris was going to show up for class anyway. He probably _was_ screwing an undergrad.

Rachel got home early that evening, so early, in fact, Quinn hadn't even started dinner yet. The blonde was surprised with the diva's early arrival, and was only momentarily thrown off when Rachel stormed into the apartment, still huffing. "Hey you!" Quinn called out from the kitchen before she began putting together the ingredients she'd need for dinner. "You're home early. History of modern dance was fascinating today; I'm so sorry you missed it!" Quinn said emphatically as she tossed a few things into her mixing bowls. "We discussed how different kinds of dances provoke all these feelings and how you should try ballet if you're stressed, or the waltz if you're indecisive, or hip hop when you're particularly passionate about something…it was amazing." Quinn finished with a smile before dusting off her hands on a towel and exiting the kitchen to find Rachel standing in the living room, her back to Quinn.

"We are going out this weekend." Rachel said as she whirled around to face the blonde; her tone firm as she crossed her arms, silently daring Quinn to contradict her. The blonde's puckered lips still waited mid-air for Rachel's, but once it became apparent that Rachel wouldn't be giving Quinn her usual good evening kiss, she righted herself and let sink in what the brunette had said.

"Wait…what?" Quinn could almost hear the bubble bursting. Rachel huffed again before collapsing onto the comfortable, yet stylish, living room couch and propped her feet up onto the rustic _Pottery Barn_ table.

"You and I are going out Friday to a bar with a few of my so-called _friends_ from school." Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes as she remembered Jen's words. Again, Rachel's tone and stare dared Quinn to protest. Quinn's mind was still whirling from the unexpected appearance of the diva, and was trying to catch up.

"Ohhhhkay?"

"We will be spending the night socializing with my friends. You haven't even made a _single_ attempt at getting to know them and haven't offered _once_ to meet them. That is unacceptable." Rachel was hoping this would guilt Quinn into attending. "And I can hardly leave you here all night alone when I go out, so I never get to see them!" Rachel exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Well that ends now!" Quinn was thrown. Rachel had never once mentioned that she wanted to go out with her friends from school and this was the first the blonde was hearing about her lack of effort. She slowly took a seat beside the fuming diva and tried to arrange her thoughts.

The blonde could tell that Rachel wanted to go. Every time she had gotten an invitation she tried to casually mention it to Quinn as though it weren't a big deal. But Quinn _knew_ of course that it was; Rachel Berry getting a social invitation? The blonde could understand why the diva would be eager. So it always surprised Quinn why she never accepted them. "You don't go because of me…is that it?" Quinn asked carefully, not exactly sure why the idea hurt so much.

Rachel could hear the pain in the blonde's voice and her head shot up. "I just didn't want to pressure you into going out with my friends. And I didn't want you to be home alone. I always thought that if you wanted to go you'd say something. When you never did, I just assumed you didn't want to meet them." This was actually true, for a change. Although Rachel was uncomfortable lying to her friends, if Quinn had wanted to go, Rachel would have gone along with it.

"That's the only reason?" The blonde asked slowly, hoping that Rachel wasn't ashamed of her or didn't think she was a suitable partner. Rachel nodded her head quickly and bit her lip as she waited for Quinn response. "Then we'll go." Quinn wasn't particularly happy with the idea of spending her night out with a bunch of people she had nothing in common with as she pretended in front of an audience to have feelings for Rachel, but she also knew it went with the job as a Stepford Wife. She had witnessed her mother go to many work functions with her father and knew that it was important that she make a good impression; she was the other half of Rachel after all. Quinn was an extension of Rachel. If she wasn't the perfect fiancé, the diva would look bad.

"Are…are you sure?" Rachel asked, getting excited at the idea that she would have actual social plans that weekend.

"Of course, Rachel. Whatever you want, I want." Rachel's pout vanished instantly and she squealed loudly and flung herself at the blonde; practically tackling Quinn off of the couch. She hugged the blonde tightly and thanked her over and over again getting Quinn to smile slightly.

But the more Rachel thought of the whole situation, the grin slid off her face as she recalled Jen's words. Rachel couldn't believe the nerve of the girl! Sitting beside her was the most perfect woman ever invented! Beautiful, intelligent, stylish, agreeable, attentive, charming, funny, devastatingly sexy…Rachel huffed. Was it so hard to believe that Rachel could land someone like Quinn? Did the other people in her class think she had been lying as well?

The blonde was surprised when Rachel suddenly whipped around to face her. "Quinn, you love me, right?" The diva asked, biting her lip and looking deeply into those hazel eyes. Again, Quinn was caught off-guard but recovered quickly.

"Of course, Rach." Quinn smiled a little. It faltered slightly by the brunette's expression. Without warning, Rachel's lips were hungrily on Quinn's as she cupped the blonde's face. The kiss was hard and forceful, and Quinn squeaked from surprise—eyes wide open as Rachel leaned into her. They hadn't kissed like this since the day before their high school graduation over a year before. And although this kiss wasn't as…_passionate_ as that one had been, it was still more than their average, everyday peck.

It was definitely out of character for Rachel to just suddenly jump Quinn. The blonde could tell something was deeply troubling the diva. A pang of guilt washed over Quinn at the lie; wishing she _had_ really loved the brunette. Rachel was upset and she needed the blonde's reassurance. Quinn felt bad that it wasn't genuine. But Rachel's lips were still pressed firmly against Quinn's. So the blonde slowly pulled away, pecking the diva's lips softly once more before looking into her eyes. "What's wrong, Rachel?" Quinn quietly asked, taking one of the brunette's hands in hers.

The brunette hesitated for only a second, still puzzled by what had just come over her. The kiss had hardly been like their first, but it felt nice; reassuring. "Well…it's just that," Rachel suddenly felt shy and embarrassed; a feeling she hadn't had since high school. "Jen doesn't believe you're real." The diva mumbled, looking down at their entwined hands. Quinn's eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher the look on the brunette's face.

"Why's that?" The blonde's voice was soft and she gently tucked a piece of brown hair behind Rachel's ear, hopping she could read Rachel's expression better. The act soothed the diva as she looked up at Quinn with puppy dog eyes, still pouting. The sight caused the blonde to smile slightly.

"She thinks you're too perfect and that I couldn't end up with someone like you." Now Quinn blanched. Who the hell did this Jen bitch think she is?

"Who the hell does this Jen bitch this she is?" Quinn growled. As Rachel chuckled a little, the blonde was momentarily surprised with her immediate reaction. Granted, Quinn had realized that she was some-what protective of Rachel, mostly because of the diva's size—she was like a puppy or something that Quinn felt the need to protect— and the importance she played in Quinn's future, but a very big part of their combined future rested on Rachel's appearance.

If everyone thought that Rachel didn't deserve someone like Quinn, or she was making the blonde up, that made them both look bad. "Well we're going to the bar this weekend and we'll just have to _show_ them how real I am. _And_ how much you deserve me." The blonde spat out, pissed that their relationship was being called into question, especially because it _was_ fake.

Rachel felt much better. She sighed as she leaned up against Quinn's shoulder and slowly stroked the blonde's hand with her thumb. "Thanks, Quinn. You always know what to say."

Quinn nodded silently, still upset that anyone could doubt the twosome. _This will be perfect practice with the media_, the blonde thought, rationalizing that most people will probably be surprised when they find out about the pair. _I am really hot, after all._ She reasoned.

"I just don't understand," Quinn said out loud after a brief silence. Rachel glanced up at the blonde questioning. "Why wouldn't you be good enough for me?" Quinn muttered to herself. She didn't catch Rachel's smile, though. The brunette thought Quinn's confused face was really kind of cute. She looked generally puzzled and the diva blushed by what it meant. Quinn couldn't understand why Jen thought that way and it made Rachel melt a little.

"You're beautiful, talented, smart, generous…" Quinn shook her head, momentarily forgetting Rachel was there. _Where have I gone wrong?_ Quinn questioned. She was positive that the clothes she had bought for Rachel were both stylish and accented the diva's physical attributes quite nicely all while keeping her poised and professional. _It can't be Rachel's body because that's damn near perfect_, Quinn thought. _Forget about her voice cause no one can doubt how incredible _that_ is. And Rach hasn't really been that annoying_. It was true. Rachel's ego deflated not long after Finn had dumped her. She was still confident, but she was less likely to bring attention to herself. _Well…come Friday we're just both going to have to look hot. _Really _hot. We'll go all out. I'll show them. Freaking drama-types. _

Rachel appreciated how this was affecting Quinn; it showed that the blonde really _did_ care for her. And although Quinn constantly attended to Rachel's every whim and desire…well…_most of them_…the blonde wasn't very affectionate with the diva. Usually it didn't bother Rachel because she didn't return Quinn's imaginary feelings. But there were times, late at night, or while watching a movie, or when they were walking through the park, when Rachel wished that Quinn would hold her a little tighter, or kiss her a little longer. It wasn't that Rachel _wanted_ that…it's just…she wanted Quinn to want that. Like…how the blonde had been that night at Rachel's fathers' house.

Sure, Quinn told Rachel she loved her and complimented her, but…she kind of missed the days of pushing someone's hand away because they were going too far too fast. She kind of missed saying no as a preemptive strike when she saw _that_ look in someone's eye, knowing that they wanted to go farther than Rachel was ready for. But Quinn was always respectful. And while Rachel admired that chivalrous quality, the diva couldn't deny that it was fun smirking at that special someone, amusement in her eyes as she denied them a chance at racing their hands over her body. To feel desired. She missed that.

_Well, that has to change, _Rachel thought as Quinn kissed her forehead before getting off the couch to prepare dinner. _Come Friday we'll just have to show them how real our relationship is. _

X

Quinn knew she had her work cut out for her. Fridays were her easy days and she was very thankful for that. But it didn't prevent her from getting up before Rachel's alarm to get a jump-start on all of her chores.

When Rachel awoke at six am, she frowned deeply, still half asleep, and blindly patted the empty bed beside her. Something wasn't right. Why was she so cold? How come she didn't feel safe? She sat up with a start and her eyes widened as she looked around her and Quinn's bedroom—all of the clothes that lay on the floor the previous night were gone. "She left me." The brunette breathed out in shock and despair. Without even realizing what was happening, tears began to hurriedly spring from Rachel's eyes. She clutched at her blanket and collapsed back onto her bed trying to soak up Quinn's smell from the blonde's pillow.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and the tornado that was Quinn was spinning into their bedroom in a frenzy of anxiety and nerves. "Up, up, up, we have a busy day, Berry." Quinn yelled as she clapped her hands; horrified to still see the brunette in bed at ten after six. Rachel's eyes went wide and then bulged when Quinn yanked the blankets back and pulled the diva out of bed. She gave Rachel's butt two firm slaps—getting the brunette to yelp—towards Rachel's elliptical while reeling off all that the pair needed to accomplish that day.

Quinn had already cleaned the apartment, the laundry washed and folded, breakfast was on the stove cooking quietly, lunch was packed in the fridge, and dinner sat in Tupperware to be heated later. "I've just been back from walking the dogs. I'm sure I'll pay for that later but hopefully taking them out two hours before usual won't be too detrimental." Quinn said, her words traveling at the speed of light. Rachel's huge eyes still stared at the blonde in shock—Quinn's behavior wasn't exactly normal—and tried to discretely change out of her nightgown—Quinn had tossed Rachel's workout clothes at her moments before—in the middle of the living room as the blonde stood there yapping away.

But she was taking too long, so Quinn stepped forward and hastily jerked the nightgown off Rachel's body getting the brunette to yelp again. Rachel quickly folded her arms across her bare chest in embarrassment as she looked anywhere but at the blonde before her. But Quinn hadn't noticed Rachel's nudity, too caught up in her diatribe of all the shopping that she needed to accomplish along with her normal day to day activities and stuffed the t-shirt over the Rachel's head, mussing the brunette's hair in the process. Rachel glanced down at Quinn in shock as the blonde held out the shorts for Rachel to step into, blushing furiously in the process as she stood in only her t-shirt and panties. The brunette tugged on her bottom lip as her eyes shot to the ceiling, hoping that if she didn't acknowledge the goose bumps erupting all over the skin Quinn had brushed with her fingertips, perhaps the blonde wouldn't see them either.

Once Quinn was satisfied that the diva was changed, she stood up and smiled proudly. "There, all ready." Rachel wasn't exactly sure _when_ would be the right time to inform Quinn that she needed to wear a sports bra for her workout regimen and that socks and sneakers were a must, but she was very close to not saying anything at all. Thankfully the brunette was able to duck into the bedroom to grab her bra and shoes, and quickly brush her teeth, when Quinn sprinted into the kitchen to check on their vegan omelets.

"Rachel! I don't hear the obnoxious whirling of your elliptical!" Quinn shouted from the kitchen just as the brunette finished lacing up her sneakers.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there." Rachel grumbled quietly as she saddled upon the machine; she looked forward to the next day when she could workout in peace—the blonde wasn't usually this forceful with the diva, showing glimpses of Lima Quinn.

Quinn popped her head out from the kitchen and eyed the diva carefully just as Rachel started working out. But her glare dissolved instantly and she slowly took careful steps into the living room, staring at Rachel closely.

"What's wrong?" The brunette's head jerked up at the surprisingly concerned tone of Quinn's voice.

"Huh?" Rachel panted, already beginning to sweat lightly. Quinn was still gazing at the brunette closely, her brows knitted as she inspected Rachel's eyes.

"Have you been crying?" Quinn flushed hotly as she recalled the fact that she literally just stripped Rachel. "Rach-if I made you uncomfortable-I-I'm…I'm so sorry! I didn't even think, I was just so stressed about everything that I needed to get done! I'm so sor-" Finally Rachel caught on to where Quinn thoughts were and she shook her head with a smile.

"Quinn, no, that wasn't it at all." _In fact, a little more of that and I may finally start relaxing!_ Rachel thought sardonically recalling how long it had been since anyone had stripped her, before she shook it off. "It's just…" Again Rachel diverted her eyes from Quinn's intense stare. She was slightly embarrassed with her display when she first woke up—crying at the thought Quinn had left her. The waterworks had seemingly come from nowhere and without logic. Perhaps it was because Rachel had still been asleep.

"When I woke up…" Quinn's squinted at Rachel as she approached the elliptical. She nodded her head to show the brunette she was listening as she secretively upped the resistance on the machine to give Rachel a better workout; the dress she had in mind for the diva would be unforgiving.

"It's just what?" Quinn prompted as she looked up at the brunette, folding her arms in concentration.

"I thought you left." Rachel mumbled as she wiped the sweat from her brow. The blonde frowned further until she understood. Her expression softened and straightened herself to her full height.

"I wouldn't do that." Quinn muttered quietly. They were both silent for a moment before Quinn remembered breakfast and hastily made her way back into the kitchen, her smile, sudden and sincere. It felt good to be needed; wanted. She had become essential to the diva and she relished the feeling. But for once, it wasn't because it meant that her future was secure; it just felt nice.

Rachel couldn't ignore the warmth that consumed her at Quinn's soft declaration. Sometimes the brunette would forget that Quinn was in love with her—or so she thought. Quinn was always so careful with Rachel—not too touchy—and besides the kissing and snuggling, it was almost like they were just friends. But when Quinn's voice would get quiet like that—a hushed confession that held so much honesty—Rachel's heart would race and she'd always let out an extra breath as though the blonde would give her new life.

"Rachel get your ass off that machine and eat your breakfast before it gets cold. Cause don't think for a _second_ I'd make you a new one with the busy schedule I have to keep!" And somehow, that comment only got the diva to smile broader…almost like it reinforced Quinn's previous words.

X

For, perhaps, the millionth time that night, Rachel tugged on the hem of her dress, completely self-conscious with its length—or lack of length—and the clingy material it was made out of. As carefully as possible, Rachel slid out of the cab, mindful of the dress riding up her bare thighs, and huffed a little once she achieved her goal. "Keep the change." Quinn mumbled to the driver before she gracefully exited the taxi.

Rachel was slightly jealous of the poise Quinn exuded in that moment. She was tall, confident, beautiful, and completely in control of her attire. The diva wasn't exactly sure why _she_ had to wear the teeny tiny bright coral dress that hugged every single curve she had painfully managed to grow herself, but Rachel couldn't disagree that the blonde's outfit was tailor-made for her. While Rachel's t-shirt dress dipped and exposed far too much tanned skin than the brunette was comfortable with, Quinn's dress—in Rachel's opinion—was far sexier without being as revealing. But of course, that was Quinn's plan all along.

While the blonde was determined to show that Rachel was incredibly sexy when she was dressed for the right role, Quinn knew that her outfit would need to be understated so that it wasn't too flashy, but looked effortlessly gorgeous as though she weren't trying. She was, but that's besides the point. Once Quinn had entered the store, she found the most willing straight man to be her test dummy. She modeled each dress for him and waited for the appropriate reaction; he didn't disappoint.

His eyes practically rolled back into his head as his tongue lolled out of his mouth when Quinn stepped out of the dressing room in the strapless slate-colored dress that hugged her torso like a bodice and puffed out slightly before stopping mid-thigh. It was elegant and sophisticated yet still showed miles of leg and a hint of cleavage. Perfect.

And apparently it _was_ perfect, because the young salesman followed Quinn up to the register, tripping over his words and fumbling over compliments. "No." The blonde deadpanned as she removed her credit card and handed it over to the cashier. "Not going to happen." She dismissed again to the oblivious man who kept trying to ask Quinn out. "Uh, uh." She reiterated as she signed the credit card slip, smiling at the chuckling cashier as the salesman continued to plead his case. "Never in this lifetime." Quinn finished before she accepted the dress and spun on her heel to exit the store.

He was hardly the first guy to hit on Quinn since she arrived in New York. It happened at least once a day. Usually they were older men, construction workers, random guys walking down the street, employees at the grocery store; but the salesman was the first younger guy that had taken the chance. He had been handsome, too. And Quinn's hazel eyes had passed him over just as she had done with all the others.

"Quinn Fabray! You _must_ be joking with this dress!" Rachel had shouted from the bedroom once the blonde stepped through the front door with her newly purchased outfit for that evening. Quinn chuckled to herself as she imagined Rachel standing in front of the mirror in their bedroom, staring down at the tiny tight dress in horror.

But the smile was wiped clean off her face when the diva huffed out of the bedroom. This time, Quinn's hazel eyes could only absorb as much as the brunette as possible, passing over _nothing_ and instead racing to see _everything._ "Trust me, Rachel." Quinn mumbled as she inspected every inch of Rachel's body. "That's the dress."

It wasn't like Quinn was checking Rachel out or anything. No. She was just…_appreciating_ Rachel's body. It happened from time to time over the last year and a half. She'd notice the brunette's long legs. She catch a hint of Rachel's exposed stomach. The diva's towel would slip a little to reveal a trail of cleavage. Not a big deal. And it wasn't a big deal now, either. "Perfect." Quinn whispered as she pushed back Rachel's long wavy hair over one bare shoulder, letting it brush against the exposed skin of the brunette's back. But Rachel was still torn. Especially when she caught sight of the dress in Quinn's hands.

"Why can't I wear that one and _you_ wear this one!" Rachel argued, getting Quinn to chuckle again.

"Just go finish your makeup." Quinn said, still amused by the diva's adorable pout.

"But I'm finished with my makeup."

Quinn smiled and pinched Rachel's cheek. "You're so funny, Rach." While Quinn dressed in the bedroom, Rachel stood outside the door and grumbled about her outfit. She still felt sure that the dress would be better suited for the blonde. But when Quinn stepped out of the bedroom, ready to yell at Rachel to finish getting ready, Rachel's face immediately heated up and she almost ran into the wall—completely distracted by the vision that was Quinn.

"You look amazing." Was the hushed reply from Rachel.

"You don't want to trade?" Quinn playful asked as she put her silver, dangly earrings in. Rachel just silently shook her head in wonder.

"So you think I look good?" Rachel nodded dumbly. "Happy I'm your fiancé?" Rachel bobbed her head some more. "Good. Now finish your makeup!"

"I'm nervous." Rachel silently muttered as the pair walked towards the entrance to the bar.

"It will be fine, Rach, they're your friends." Quinn soothed as she held the door open for the brunette. "And you look amazing so you really don't have anything to worry about. Come on, we're late." Rachel gained some confidence from Quinn assessment, remembering how those hazel eyes had dropped down to her bare legs several times during their short cab ride. A part of Rachel wished the blonde had placed a hand on her thigh—displaying just how tempting Rachel's legs were. It was kind of unnerving how much self-restraint Quinn exhibited. It was really starting to annoy the brunette.

Quinn placed a soft hand on the small of Rachel's back—as per usual—as she guided them further into the bar. It was game time. They both took a deep breath as they geared up for what was about to come. Rachel knew that simply having Quinn at her side would show her doubting friends that she hadn't been lying. She _may_ have to step it up a little and be a little more affectionate with Quinn than she usually was—and _not_ because it felt incredibly good to feel the blonde's hand on her bare skin—to drive the point home; how _dare_ they question Rachel!

Quinn tried to remember everything her mother and Frannie had told her about playing the perfect wife role. She would have to be engaging, friendly, attentive, and charming. The blonde had witnessed both her mother and sister slip into the role perfectly and knew that this was another test: Rachel's friends would have to love her. She was there to make the brunette look good. This would be important later in life when she would need to deal with producers, coworkers, and the media. Quinn would like to just adorn her mask that she had used in high school, coming off confident and bitchy, but although that was a role she was most comfortable and familiar with, it would do no good in this situation. She was a Stepford Wife now; she'd need to be sweet. That thought got Quinn to roll her eyes. She wasn't good at playing sweet.

"There they are." Rachel mumbled before she smiled. Quinn knew it was fake, out of nerves most likely, Quinn figured. But the long table was occupied with at least a dozen or more people, all looking up at the approaching couple with great interest and some wide eyes—Rachel did look a bit different than they were use to seeing—and the blonde couldn't help but feel nervous as well.

"You made it!" Quinn immediately identified the girl as Jen—Rachel had described in great detail each and every one of her friends at the blonde's prodding; she wanted to know everything there was to know about who she was meeting in order to greet them in the best possible fashion.

Jen jumped up from behind the table to give Rachel a hug, but her dark eyes were trained on Quinn in disbelief. The girl had felt slightly guilty over what she had said to Rachel earlier that week. Once she was convinced that the diva had been truthful she had tried to imagine what Quinn would look like. She wasn't at all prepared. It seemed like Rachel had _under_ exaggerated for a change.

She wasn't the only one of Rachel's friends to be stunned. Almost everyone at the long table was staring at Quinn in surprise. The blonde was very aware that she was the center of attention and straightened herself out to full height as she delicately slipped a stray blonde tendril over her ear without disrupting the messy loose bun of curls that sat low on her neck.

"Everyone," Rachel beamed, pleased that they were already enamored with her fiancé. "_This_, is Quinn." Now eyes flicked to Rachel, taking in her sexy attire. They had never seen the brunette look so good—her hair tousled, makeup smoky—before they glanced back at the blonde with wide-opened mouths.

"Jen, right?" Quinn greeted, reaching out her hand to take Jen's limp one that lay stunned at her side. "It's very nice to meet you, I've heard so much." The blonde smiled warmly—hoping it appeared that way at any rate—before turning to greet everyone else. Henry and Tyler were the next the blonde identified and addressed. She knew that they were important to Rachel so she approached them with a smile and bent down a little to shake their hands as well as they both sat stunned.

Rachel's smile couldn't be erased; she had _never_ seen the blonde be so friendly and warm. It was a little startling, actually, to witness Quinn Fabray be personable. Once Henry and Tyler were through with their introductions, Rachel looped her arm around Quinn's and ushered her around the table to meet the remaining people. The flash cards the blonde had been studying for days passed through her mind with each person she met. _This is Virginia. It's a pleasure to meet you, Virginia, congratulations on your role in the Christmas Show. This is Patrick. Nice to meet you, Patrick, I'm so sorry to hear about your ankle. Any word on when you may continue dancing? This is Dwayne. Enchanted to meet your acquiesce. I would love to hear about the play you're planning to get produced when you have the time. _

The whole evening went on like that: Quinn speaking to different friends of Rachel's, engaging them in diverse discussions on their progress at Julliard, asking questions about their intended futures, and even managing to use information that she had learned through her _own_ classes at Julliard to add her two cents—each opinion impressed the table _thoroughly_. Rachel's friends were completely charmed. If Rachel's drink was threatening to empty, Quinn would spring from her seat to get the brunette another—asking others if they were in need as well before she went. When the pair was asked about their relationship, the blonde always managed to return Rachel's shy smile and touch the diva in some way further her words.

Rachel sat beside the blonde, proud and quite charmed herself. Their hands were laced, their shoulders brushed, their aura promoted that of a happy couple. Rachel couldn't take her eyes off of Quinn all evening. And when the blonde wasn't discussing her own opinions on modern dance or listening to someone explain their major, Quinn's eyes would be on Rachel, making sure she was taken care of, that she was having a good time, that she was smiling.

"I'm going to get a drink, do you want any thing?" Rachel whispered in Quinn's ear around midnight. The blonde turned to look at Rachel, allowing Henry and Tyler to command the conversation she was previously in on, and went to stand.

"I'll go get you a drink." Quinn started, in the process of reaching for her purse. Rachel chuckled and firmly placed a hand on Quinn's arm.

"You've been getting me drinks all night," Rachel said, a dopey smile stretching across her face as her eyes twinkled, proving the statement; Rachel was a little drunk. "Let me get _you_ something for a change." Quinn smiled easily.

"Just a glass of wine."

"That's it? You haven't had anything to drink all night." Quinn was sure. Rachel stepped around and dodged multiple people to get away from their table before making it to the bar. She was pleased to see two boys from some of her classes awaiting their own drinks and greeting them with a smile and wave.

"Hey, Berry."

"Hello, Thomas. Hello, Oliver." Rachel leaned over the bar and gave her drink orders before turning back to the boys. "Are you having a good evening?" Rachel wasn't too familiar with her classmates, but they seemed nice enough.

"Yeah, it's not bad." Tom said before pulling from his beer. Rachel winced slightly and looked away as she felt the boy's eyes on legs. Oliver wasn't much better, intently staring at her ass as he sipped his own beer.

"Your girlfriend is hot, Rach." Oliver commented, still gawking at the brunette.

"_Fiancé_, actually, Oliver." Rachel corrected as she handed the bartender her money.

"Fiancé, I'm sorry." And he seemed it. Both boys had stopped ogling Rachel and were staring at the bar as though they were trying their best not to continue to look at Rachel's body. This is one thing she really liked about the boys at Julliard—they weren't the pigs she was use to. But they _were_ still boys.

"You're both really lucky." Tom commented as his gaze drifted towards the table where Quinn and Henry were laughing together. For a moment, Rachel forgot that Tom and Oliver were even there. She just stared at Quinn as the blonde laughed; she looked beautiful.

"I'm sorry, Thomas, what did you just say?" Rachel asked, shaking her head out of the daze that was Quinn as she turned to look at the boys.

"I asked if she was hot _everywhere_." He repeated with a smirk. Rachel frowned deeply and narrowed her eyes at the boy. Beside Tom, Oliver rolled his eyes and slapped his friend upside the head.

"Sorry about him, Rach." Tom looked confused for a moment before his face cleared.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Rachel. I forget sometimes." He apologized, properly chastised.

"You forget what, Thomas?" She asked, frown still in place that he would dare say that about _her_ Quinn.

"See, it's just that guys say that type of shit to each other. But it's different with girls, even lesbians. I'm sorry." Now it was Rachel's turn to be confused.

"What do you mean?" She asked, truly puzzled.

"Guys sometimes brag about their girls. It's stupid and immature but it's our way of talking about our girlfriends and stuff." Oliver shrugged. Rachel's curiosity peaked. It was interesting how the two boys were speaking to her. They were definitely impressed by Quinn and seemed generally friendly. And although their eyes would check her out briefly before they remembered they weren't really allowed to, they were still talking to her as though she were a friend; almost one of the guys. This pleased the diva.

"She _is_ very attractive." Rachel said with a slow smile. Tom and Oliver chuckled and nodded. "She was a cheerleader too." She boasted. Both boys broke out in grins.

"Really?" Oliver asked eagerly.

"Before we got together she was president of the celibacy club." Tom and Oliver roared with laughter as Rachel huffed on her nails and buffed them on her dress playfully. They both high-fived her before the brunette excused herself with the pretext of bringing her fiancé her wine, grinning broadly as she went.

Rachel suddenly felt like a rockstar; cool. Not just the Broadway diva she was use to being labeled as. She understood now why guys would brag amongst themselves.

_I feel _good_. _

We_ feel good! _

_Darn straight! _

_Sexy!_

_Cool! _

_Wanted! _

_I've missed this feeling. _

_Me too. _

_Actually…I'm not sure I've _ever_ felt it. _

_Me either. _

_Quinn is amazing! _

_I'm so glad we found her and brought her back to New York. _

_Oh my, God, me too! _

_She's been so incredible to us. _

_Everyone loves her. _

_I think I love her! _

_Slow down, Rachel. _

_What? Look at her! She's gorgeous! _

_Yes…she _is_ beautiful, but that doesn't mean we love her! _

_She takes care of us. _

_Yes…but she's still Quinn Fabray. And we've talked about this, we can't get hurt again. _

_But I miss liking someone…and Quinn makes it easy. _

_Liking someone is fine, giving them the ammunition to break our heart is quite another. Besides, it's just the alcohol talking. Come tomorrow we'll go right back to hating her. _

…

_What? _

_It's just…when was the last time we actually felt as though we hated Quinn? _

…

_Exactly! She's been so amazing! _

_It doesn't change the fact that we can't give anyone our heart, most of all Quinn Fabray. _

_But…_

_But what? _

_God, I can't believe I'm about to say this…_

_What? _

_I NEED SEX! _

_Rachel Berry! _

_What? Are you saying that you couldn't use some action? _

…_Okay…_maybe…

_See! And Quinn loves us! _

…_True…_

_So what would the harm be in…you know…fooling around just a little? _

…

_Thought so! _

_Wait! _

_What? _

…_you know what, never mind. Go for it! _

_Don't worry, I will! _

"Your wine, my love." Rachel cooed in the blonde's ear as she reached the girl.

"Thank you." Quinn returned, smiling questioningly at the smirk on Rachel's lips. The diva seemed quite pleased with herself and the blonde had never seen Rachel with that particular grin before. And Quinn now knew all of Rachel's smiles. But this one was almost smug.

"May I have this dance?" Rachel asked, extending her hand and waiting for Quinn's. Still slightly puzzled, Quinn accepted and got to her feet. There was definitely something going on with Rachel. The blonde couldn't put her finger on it, but it made her a little nervous.

As the pair reached the dance floor, Rachel winked over at Thomas and Oliver before she slid her arms around Quinn's neck. "Are you having a good time, baby?" Hazel eyes flickered in surprise at the term of endearment and the huskiness Rachel's voice had taken on. Red flags were being thrown inside Quinn's head as she finally recognized the diva's behavior.

"Just how much have you had to drink, Rach?" Quinn chuckled uncomfortably as she held Rachel's hips loosely.

"Not too much." Rachel answered as she pulled the blonde flush to her body. Quinn gulped as the pair swayed to the music, discretely looking around the dance floor to see if anyone was judging two women dancing _together_; this was their first truly public outing and Quinn was a little nervous how they'd be received by people who weren't Rachel's friends. But no one seemed remotely interested…well…no one appeared to be homophobic—_plenty _of people were interested.

The heavy beat was meant to bring couples close, grinding up against one another, and Quinn was pleased that she and Rachel were dancing relatively innocent in comparison to those around them. "Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?" The brunette whispered in Quinn's ear. The blonde swallowed with difficulty as she felt Rachel trace her fingertips up and down her neck. The diva's mouth—thanks to her heels—was just beside Quinn's ear and the blonde was wracking her brain to come up with something to defuse the situation.

Rachel was drunk. Not sloppily so, but she was giddy. This was a side of the brunette Quinn had never seen and she wasn't exactly sure how to proceed. "You look very beautiful, too." Quinn commented nervously.

"You can hold me tighter, you know." Rachel whispered as her fingers combed through Quinn's hair. The blonde bit her lip at the sensation and willed herself to tighten her grasp on Rachel's hips without hurting the girl; things were getting a little too heated for Quinn. She hadn't even taken one sip of her wine and suddenly she wished she had downed the whole thing. She couldn't act nervous with Rachel's friends watching. She couldn't seem edgy in the brunette's arms. But she was certainly both.

But Rachel wasn't nervous, quite the contrary. The wine she had been drinking all night made her feel playful and mischievous…not to mention a little horny. It was going on two years since the brunette did anything but kiss. She felt sexy that night. Quinn looked gorgeous. And the wine was making her feel brave and sassy. Was she ready to sleep with Quinn? Absolutely not. And besides, the blonde wanted to wait until marriage. But that didn't mean they couldn't do _other_ stuff, now did it?

Quinn diverted her eyes from Rachel's as they continued to sway. But the brunette gazed up at Quinn in awe. "You've been amazing tonight." The diva whispered against Quinn's ear. The blonde just nodded, not sure what she was required to say. "Of course, you're amazing _every_ day." Rachel finished as she continued to stroke Quinn's neck.

"You make it easy." Quinn laughed awkwardly. It was usually her standard answer whenever the diva praised her. But at that moment, as she felt Rachel's tongue trace her earlobe, Quinn knew it was the _wrong_ thing to say. The blonde's eyes went wide as her face flushed deeply.

"I could make it a lot _easier_." Rachel purred into her ear. Quinn choked on air as the implication sunk in.

"Rachel-" Quinn began, ready to play the no-sex-until-marriage card, but Rachel interrupted.

"Just because we're waiting, doesn't mean we can't find other things to do." It was then the blonde's heart truly started palpitating. What could she say? She was a Stepford Wife; she was to do as her betrothed requested. Also, she was supposedly in love with Rachel, why _wouldn't_ she want to fool around? There was no chance of pregnancy, so she couldn't use that as an excuse. She'd have to think fast.

"But you're drunk." Quinn muttered, aware that her shaky hands were clenching and releasing Rachel's hips sporadically.

"I just drank a water, I'll be fine before we even get home."

"What about your friends?"

"I'm sure they won't mind if we left a little early."

"If-if we start…" Quinn gulped at the thought and tried desperately to keep her voice even. "What if we don't want to stop? We can't do that."

"Why not?" Rachel asked innocently as her hands trailed down the skin of Quinn shoulders before skirting around the blades. "Can't we just see how it goes?" The blonde faltered before pulling away slightly from the brunette, her eyes narrowed.

"Excuse me?" Rachel realized what she implied and started apologizing.

"You're right, Quinn. That was horrible of me. It's just…" The blonde felt relief as she saw some of the cloudiness from Rachel's eyes start to clear; she was sobering up.

"It's just what?" The blonde prompted, looking around to make sure no one could detect their slight feud.

"You're so amazing, Quinn. Sometimes it's difficult for me to remember why I wanted to wait to begin with. It's been so long since…" Rachel's eyes widened slightly to emphasize what she was trying to get out. Quinn snorted in laughter and rolled her eyes in mirth.

"Please, Rach. I haven't done anything like that since sophomore year. If I can hold out, so can you." The diva went silent as Quinn continued to chuckle. It seemed like her whole life people were always complaining about their lack of sex and the blonde could never quite understand what the big deal was. It was one of the reasons she had slept with Puck to begin with; wanting to know what everyone was so caught up in. Before, during, and after the answer still alluded her. And sure, that night at the Berrys' when she kissed Rachel in her bedroom, she'd gotten a taste of the reason why people did that stuff…but she had been drunk. That's why she enjoyed Rachel's hands on her and her own hands on Rachel.

The brunette had been unusually quiet for quite some time and Quinn glanced down only to see Rachel biting her lip and looking forlorn. "Hey, what's wrong?" The blonde asked carefully, using the tip of her finger to guide the brunette's chin up.

"Do you…do you not find me attractive enough?" Rachel asked as she tried to fight off her tears. So maybe the diva was a _little_ drunk. Or a lot. It would explain why so suddenly she felt rejected. She was use to guys, that was the problem, she considered. Every boy she had dated had tried their best to sleep with her. Yet, here was Quinn _denying_ _her_. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a big deal under normal circumstances. The problem was, Rachel _was_ drunk. Also, the diva was tired of _not_ getting that sort of attention. She and Quinn had only made out twice in a year and a half. That was crazy to Rachel. Two people who were supposedly in love and living together, who were engaged to be married, should probably make out a little more, right?

Rachel's insecurities were starting to pile up. Quinn had just alluded to the fact that it wasn't that difficult for her to wait out sex. But if the blonde were _truly_ in love with her, _really_ attracted to Rachel…wouldn't she be just a _little_ desperate for something more?

_Oh my, _God_, I've waited too long to be more physical with Quinn and now we're in the friends zone!_ Rachel gushed internally, anxious at what it could mean. _She was in love with me and now we're just roommates! I'm such an idiot! How could I have let this happen? All those nights we slept side by side and I didn't make a move just because I never actually felt anything and now that I'm starting to _really_ become attracted to her and I've missed my chance! Soon she'll realize that she no longer wants me and she'll move out and I'll be alone and I'll…oh my, God…I'll miss her! I'd miss Quinn! Quinn Fabray! I'll miss waking up to her, coming home to her, falling asleep in her arms! Not _just_ the cooking, cleaning, and taking care of me! I'd…I'd _really _miss her! _

The diva's question was running through Quinn's mind. _How am I going to get out of this freaking situation? _"Of course I'm attracted to you, Rach." The blonde mumbled stiffly. It wasn't very convincing to the diva.

"Quinn…if…if you're not into me anymore-" _Oh for crying out loud! _Quinn internally roared, thoroughly pissed that she was in the situation. But she knew what she had to do.

The blonde's fingers swiftly threaded through Rachel's hair before she roughly connected their lips. Rachel was instantly moaning into the kiss—completely caught off-guard and insanely ready to deepen it. The brunette's tongue eagerly dipped into Quinn's mouth, sliding against the blonde's over and over as her hands held tight to Quinn's back before sweeping them over bare skin.

Quinn's right hand left the diva's hair to slide down to Rachel's neck, cupping it firmly to keep them connected through their kiss. The blonde was vaguely aware that there was music blaring around them and they were being watched, but she was so focused on the kiss that everything slipped away. Rachel's hands were dancing down her back as they pushed Quinn flush against her. Suddenly Quinn knew they weren't going to get as close as she thought they should—but she tried earnestly to help.

She shifted her hips slightly to allow Rachel's body to fit snug against hers. Gripping the brunette's shoulder hard, Quinn held Rachel's cheek so she could steady the diva enough to lightly nibble on her full lower lip. "Shit." Rachel mumbled softly against Quinn's lips before she dove in to increase the pace of their kiss.

Quinn felt as though the last year and a half had never occurred and she was back to the night before graduation in Rachel's room. Every feeling, emotion, and desire erupted inside of her as though _she _were the drunk one. All of her carefully orchestrating, memorizing, and constructing had been all wiped clean from her mind as she forgot that she _wasn't_ in Rachel's bedroom in Lima, Ohio. Quinn hadn't felt arousal this strongly since then and was left with a swirling wonder on how it had managed to lie dormant for this long and exactly _how_ it had been awoken. Surely, it had always been below the surface. But if that were the case, why hadn't it presented itself to the blonde _before_ that night in Rachel's room? And why was it suddenly popping up now?

Then, the question was completely obliterated as Rachel slid her tongue deeply into Quinn's mouth. The blonde moaned and then did so again as Rachel sucked on her tongue. Suddenly, Quinn realized that both of her hands were cupping Rachel's ass, pushing the brunette closer to her and massaging the area with fever.

"We need to get out of here." Rachel panted as she pulled her lips from Quinn's. Her arm was being yanked and her body instantly followed through her haze, as Rachel pulled them out of the bar.

"Your friends?" Quinn mumbled, not really understanding what was happening.

"They'll get over it." Rachel replied as she practically jumped in front of the first available cab she saw. She gave the address to the driver and before Quinn could ask what was going on, Rachel's lips were back on hers.

_What the _hell _is going on?_

_You're asking the _wrong _person! _

_OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!_

_I can't think when her hands are this close to our breasts!_

Jesus, _I'm turned on!_

_What the _hell _is happening? _

_We're going back to the apartment. _

_God, when she sucks on my tongue I completely forget what my name is! _

_Rachel! _

_No, that's _her_ name, idiot! _

_Well at least I'm not the idiot that just moaned her name! Out loud! _

_No I didn't! _

"Oh, God, _Rachel!" _

_Well, you did just then! _

_Shit! What's happening! _

_I believe she's stroking our thigh and kissing our neck. _

_What are we doing? _

_Um, moaning her name and clinging to her. _

_Shit! Why are we _doing _that?_

_I believe because it feels amazing! _

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it! We need to stop! _

_OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod! _You_ stop her, I quite like where her hand is headed! _

"Keep the change!" Rachel's husky voice broke Quinn of her thoughts and once again, the blonde's arm was being yanked as Rachel tore from the cab and made a beeline for their apartment building.

Quinn stumbled, tripped, and staggered up the four flights of stairs that Rachel was scaling as she dragged the blonde along. Quinn was only vaguely aware that the diva was talking to her, saying things in a deep voice that didn't need attention to know where sexual in nature. It was only when Rachel fumbled and dropped the keys to their apartment twice that the blonde realized that Rachel had been lying and was still very drunk. But Quinn couldn't remember why it mattered.

Finally, the door had been open and before Quinn could even mention that they should stop, not like she really wanted to, she was pinned against the door and kissing Rachel. Quinn's hands slid to Rachel's ass again, almost like it was her home-base, and squeezed when Rachel sucked on her tongue. It was obvious to the brunette that Quinn liked it; each time she did it, Quinn would moan loudly and held her tighter. And each time Quinn would moan, Rachel wanted the blonde just that much more.

Kicking off her heels and pulling away from Quinn, Rachel grabbed the blonde's hand to lead them towards the bedroom. Quinn only had eyes for Rachel's lips—watching them smirk, the diva's tongue snake across them, her teeth bite down on the swollen corner. Without realizing it, she was at the foot of the bed, hovering over Rachel who lay on top, panting hard and staring up at Quinn with pure lust in her dark eyes.

For the third time that night, Rachel yanked Quinn's arm until the blonde was lying on top of her. Legs tangled, hip to hip, breast to breast, mouths panting. "Hi." Rachel breathed out, smiling widely as she ran her hands over Quinn's bare back.

"Hi." Quinn whispered, eyes still on Rachel's lips and she swallowed thickly. Hesitating only slightly, Quinn leant down and brushed her lips against Rachel's. Their pace was languid and intimate, mouths sliding, tongues sweeping, nothing hurried or overly sexual. But there was passion. It terrified Quinn just how careful she was being, or _had _to be. She felt as though she were chained and if she were to show the slightest resistance, all hell would break loose and she'd devour Rachel.

Rachel felt almost the same. Whenever Quinn's hands would pull her a little closer or grip her hip slightly harder, the diva became lightheaded in her arousal. It was no secret to Rachel that the blonde was very attractive. She had always thought so. But as Rachel found herself opening up to Quinn, trusting in the blonde, that attraction became desire and it was growing deeper every day. Watching Quinn make their apartment a home, help the diva with school, go out of her way to lean about her friends and make an effort, look absolutely gorgeous with little to no effort—Rachel was suddenly claustrophobic under the weight of her emotions.

"Wait, wait, wait." The brunette hurriedly whispered as she tried to pull away from the lips on her neck.

"What is it? Did I do something wrong?" Quinn asked as she hovered over Rachel with concern in her eyes. Those eyes, Rachel thought, that seemed to control her. Rachel felt like she couldn't breathe as the force of her feelings hit her squarely in the chest. Quinn's pale face was flushed, her pink lips were bruised and full, and her hazel eyes were swirling with specks of green; Rachel had never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

"I think…" Quinn quickly moved off the diva as she felt Rachel wiggle out from underneath her. She looked extremely pale and nervous to the blonde and she was mentally kicking herself for whatever she did wrong. "I think we should just…slow down, or something." Rachel mumbled as she ran her hands over her face to shake the sudden epiphany away.

"Did I do something wrong?" Quinn asked again, biting her lip as she sat awkwardly at the foot of the bed, watching the diva. Rachel swallowed deeply as she tried to expel the intense feelings she was having.

"No, Quinn. You were perfect." Rachel whispered as she slid off the bed. "You were right; we got carried away." The blonde nodded unsurely.

"Is there anything I can do?" Now Quinn was feeling insecure. Only moments before, Rachel seemed primed and ready to take their relationship further. Now, however, Rachel was retreating as far away from Quinn as possible as she busied herself finding pajamas.

Rachel heard the uncertainty in Quinn's voice and forced herself to turn and meet the blonde's eyes. She didn't want to rebuff her finance's efforts, but she needed a moment to collect herself. "I'm just going to take a quick shower, sober up a little, and I'll be right out."

"Rachel, wait." The brunette paused at the bedroom door as Quinn approached slowly. "Are you sure you're okay? If-if I did anything wrong, I would want you to be able to tell me…I-I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Rachel's eyes rose from the flannel pants in her hands and up to the still swirling hazel. "No, Quinn. Truly, you were amazing. I just…" Rachel trailed off as she tried to bring her inner-actress to the surface. "I think, perhaps, I had a little too much wine this evening." She explained with a fake chuckle. "A quick shower and a good night's sleep will do me some good."

Quinn barely felt Rachel's lips brush her cheek before she heard the bathroom door closing. She bit her lip for a moment before turning back and finding her own pajamas to ready herself for the night.

As the blonde lay in her and Rachel's bed, she lightly ran her fingertips over her bare stomach as she remembered Rachel's kisses and touch. She couldn't blame alcohol this time; she was aroused. Thoroughly aroused. Her body felt as though it was wound a little too tightly and her skin was hot to the touch. Images of Rachel in her little dress swam behind Quinn's eyelids and she rolled over to try and dispel them. She absolutely wouldn't allow herself to think of Rachel, a room over, naked and showering.

But as Rachel washed her face of her makeup and stood beneath the hot spray of her shower, she could think of nothing else aside from Quinn. Somewhere, between their routine, their fake affections and compliments, school and trips to the Farmer's Market, and their dirty dancing, Rachel began to fall for Quinn Fabray. And the diva had absolutely no idea what the hell to do with that.

"I can_not _believe it." Rachel mumbled to herself as she stared at her foggy reflection in the mirror, her makeup slightly smeared and her face still pale. "I have a freaking _crush_ on my fiancé!"


	4. Chapter 4 There's Something About Rachel

_Thank you for reading and reviewing, you've been amazing. Also, I have a few notes. Some of you have expressed some __concern__ interest in what's to come in upcoming chapters. I hope this answers your questions: There will be jealous!Quinn, possessive!Quinn, jealous!Rachel, possessive!Rachel, the Berry men, short re-caps of past events, jealous exes, a friend for Quinn, college!Quinn, career!Quinn, gleeks, Lima, gleeks _in_ Lima, secrets revealed, secrets withheld, horny!Quinn, horny!Rachel, rom-com titles, lots of making out, bitchy!Quinn, diva!Rachel, fluff, snuff, paparazzi, crack, sex—because I can't seem to write a story without it, stage-mom!Quinn, Faberry friendship, Faberry faux friendship, Faberry relationship, Faberry faux relationship, glitz, glamour, masturbation, alcohol consumption, awkward conversations, crazy conversations, and a wee bit of normal conversations; some of which will actually appear this chapter. _

_I hope you enjoy. _

Chapter Four: There's Something about Rachel

"The job would require you to be at the first apartment around noon. After an hour walk, you would have fifteen minutes until you are required to be at your next destination. The cycle would continue until around six pm. Can you handle that?" Quinn glanced up from her files to peer across the table at the girl before her. Her long, raven hair was down, yet, disheveled. Her bright blue eyes were staring back at Quinn in lazy aloofness that her smirk didn't quite match.

"Whatever. How much do I get paid again?" Lydia dipped her French fry into a pool of mayonnaise on her plate and Quinn grimace at the sight. When Rachel suggested that Quinn start a dog walking business and hire someone to help with her afternoon clientele while the blonde was busy at school, Lydia was hardly who Quinn had pictured as her help.

"You'll get ten dollars a walk."

"What if I forget that I'm walking them during and they are more like guiding me. Do I still get paid?" The comment reminded Quinn why she hired Lydia above the other candidates. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about Lydia that made her feel close to the weird yet bitchy girl. Even if she didn't necessarily like her.

"You'll still get paid." Quinn assured Lydia slowly who didn't seem to be listening. "You'll arrive at my apartment every day to pick up the keys to each apartment for your walks, but you can_not_ be late because I'll be in a hurry trying to get to classes."

"Sure, whatever." Lydia dismissed with a flick of her hand. "Are we done?" Quinn blew out a breath and scanned the empting diner with trepidation. Quinn was sure she was going to be late to a lot of classes this semester.

"Yeah, we're done."

"You got the check right?" Lydia asked without waiting for an answer, collecting her things and out the door before Quinn could blink.

"I guess so."

Instead of rushing to pay her bill, Quinn sat in the booth at the diner only a few blocks from her and Rachel's apartment. She picked at her salad and sipped her water as she thought. Only a week had gone by since she and Rachel went out with the diva's school friends and things had been a little tentative between the pair since.

Rachel was cordial with Quinn and almost skittish. Their morning routine which had once been light and repetitive in its sickeningly-sweet mantra was now forced. Rachel also seemed to be spending less and less time at the apartment. Claiming she was gearing up for her audition for _A Sweetness, _which would happen in a few days time. And although the story was plausible, Quinn couldn't shake the fact that their night out had changed the dynamic between the two.

Suddenly, everything felt so real for the blonde. They were living together. Engaged. Planning for the future. Another big change that had happened since the Friday before was that their nights were no longer filled with innocent touches and kisses. Instead, as they watched movies or lay in bed, Rachel's hungry mouth with find Quinn's until the boundary between making out and morethan making out would blur, and then Rachel would pull away.

Quinn couldn't make heads or tails of it. The kisses would come on without warning; Rachel diving at the blonde as though she couldn't restrain herself, and then, suddenly, she'd pull away and act like she had that night they went out with the diva's friends—distant, plagued, and unapproachable. It was driving Quinn crazy! She couldn't get a read on Rachel and it was scaring her. But what terrified Quinn even more was the fact that she looked forward to those kisses. She dreaded the moment Rachel pulled away. And despite the fact that she planned her day around Rachel's attack, the moment when the diva felt it acceptable to finally kiss Quinn, the blonde couldn't bring herself to initiate a make out session; she was terrified with the fact that she _always _wanted to be kissing Rachel now. But Quinn had pretty much convinced herself it had more to do with the fact that she hadn't really kissed anyone in almost two years.

"Quinn? Quinn Fabray?"

Quinn halted at the street corner as her body tensed up. Someone just called her name. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it in years, but she knew who it belonged to. A disbelieving smile spread across Quinn's face as she slowly turned to see the boy staring at her with wide eyes and a huge grin.

"Matt Rutherford, what are you doing in New York City?" The blonde asked as she made her way over to him. She leaned against the brick coffee shop as she stared up at Matt, genuinely pleased.

"I go to school at NYU, what the _hell _are you doing here? Got out of Lima, I see. That's awesome!"

"I…go to school here too…I guess."

"No really? Where?" A beat went by before Quinn finally answered.

"Julliard." Matt's jaw fell open as he stared at her in shock.

"Wow, that's crazy! I would never have guessed you were interested in the performing arts." Quinn just nodded, not really sure what she could say. "I was about to get a cup of coffee, you have anywhere you have to be?"

As Quinn and Matt caught up in the coffee shop, Rachel stood in the middle of their living room staring out the two windows within. Over the last week the diva had been doing that a lot; just staring and thinking. She was furious with Quinn for making her feel. She was furious with herself for allowing it to happen. And to make matters worse, she really didn't have time for this.

In only two days she'd be auditioning for the off-Broadway show she was sure would be her first step to success. _A Sweetness _was a story about a young girl's journey from the perils of adolescences to the hardships of falling in love against the backdrop of the Roaring Twenties. It was basically every single Broadway show Rachel adored all rolled up into one. The buzz surrounding the show was so great that the diva was certain that it wouldn't stay _off _Broadway for long. Which meant that Rachel was desperate to star in it.

She knew her audition needed to be perfect. She'd need a song and a monologue that would not only stand out, but prove her range. The character, Cecile, traveled the span of thirteen to thirty in only three acts. Her monologue needed to be innocent whereas her song choice had to show the trials and tribulations of heartache. In short; Rachel was panicking. Or, she _should_ have been.

Rachel let out a weary sigh as she thought of Quinn. How had she allowed herself to get into this mess? She was neversupposed to like Quinn Fabray. In fact, the only reason why she brought Quinn to New York at all and pretended to love the blonde was so that she'd neverhave to fall in love. She'd just bewith Quinn. Lying. Never moving forward. Protecting herself. If she were with Quinn, she wouldn't have to look for someone else, someone who could break her heart. And although Quinn had told Rachel she loved her and was proving that to be true every day since she arrived in New York by taking care of the diva and encouraging her, Rachel couldn't shake the fact that she was destined to get hurt once again.

As she often did, Rachel opened her mouth and began singing her feelings. She wasn't exactly sure why the song came to mind, she couldn't recall the last time she had heard it, but it tumbled from her lips as though she planned on singing it all along.

Quinn stood against the archway of the living room, arms folded, as Rachel passionately belted out Jewel's _Foolish Games. _Just as she did in high school, the blonde wondered where the diva stored all her dramatic emotions in her teeny tiny body. Quinn couldn't help but smile as she watched Rachel really get into the song; raising her arms and moving about the space as though it was a stage and she was Eva Perón. It was amusing to observe considering it was taking place in their living room. As she watched, Quinn noted the flutter in her stomach. She was use to the feeling that accompanied seeing Rachel. What startled Quinn was that in the past week the fluttering was paired with a wave of arousal. It was disconcerting to Quinn, to say the least.

Rachel was too far into the song to notice the blonde. She was so torn by her feelings that the only thing she felt she could do was sing about them. Sing about how scared she was to have feelings for someone again. A simple crush could easily turn into _real _love for Rachel. Sing about how infuriating it was to lie to Quinn about their situation; that it began as a way for Rachel to not be so alone. Sing about how guilty she felt that she was—had been—using the blonde. Sing about how she didn't want to lose Quinn despite all that.

Quinn clapped softly after Rachel sang her finale note. Rachel, startled, spun around with a hand over her heart in surprise. "Quinn! You scared me."

"Sorry. That was beautiful, Rach." Quinn smiled as she walked further into the apartment and leaned down to kiss Rachel's cheek.

"Thank you. I was just…"

"Practicing?" Quinn guessed as she collapsed onto their couch. Rachel bit her lip as she avoided Quinn's eyes. No, she hadn't been practicing. She _should've _been practicing, but her emotions where overshadowing her responsibilities.

"Yes, you caught me." Rachel lied as she took the seat next to Quinn.

"_Foolish Games? _I haven't heard that song in…years."

"Well," Rachel began as she fluffed her skirt a few times. "I wanted something that stood out amongst, what I'm sure will be, a plethora of Broadway classics. It's also tortured enough to convey that I have range as an actress and can take the character of Cecile through her adolescence to adulthood." Rachel mentally pattered herself on the back for her quick lie. She was further impressed with herself because it was all true.

"Well if you sing like that at the audition, the part will be yours." Despite what she just said, Rachel had no intention of using the song for the audition. She was a sucker for the classics, the _real _classics. She was thinking along the lines of _The Way we Were _or the reprise of _I'll Cover You_. Sad and haunting, yet able show that she knew her stuff. Pop songs weren't taken seriously. But she just nodded to fake her agreement with the blonde.

"I can't wait to see your audition. I hired Lydia officially today, against my better judgment, and we have it all worked out. Monday she'll start so I'll be free to watch you on that stage." Quinn said with a small smile, thrilled to witness Rachel's first serious audition. Quinn had a feeling about this one.

But Rachel froze. _Quinn will be there? No, no, no, no, no! _"But, Quinn. If you're there I'll be far too nervous!" Rachel lied.

The blonde snorted softly. "You, nervous? Right, Rach. I've seen hundreds of your performances, including auditions, and this one is no different. You're going to be amazing…" As Quinn continued to rattle away her excitement, Rachel was having a meltdown.

_If she goes I'll have to perform _Foolish Games _and I can't sing that, they'll laugh me off stage! Jewel? Who sings Jewel? That's absolutely absurd! _"You know, on second thought, I may not sing _Foolish Games_. I was just trying out different songs and that one came to mind. But I'm not seriously considering it." Rachel mentioned in an off-hand tone as she got up and busied herself straightening already perfectly stacked magazines that sat in the corner of the room on an end table.

"No, Rach, I actually think that's a really great idea." Quinn loved the song. She remembered her sister Frannie and her friends belting it out at the top of their lungs back in the day. It was just the type of song Rachel was looking for and it wasn't as predictable as all the other ones people used for their auditions. Maybe it was because all the prospective actors were backstage and weren't paying attention to those auditioning, so they couldn't tell. But every time Quinn sat in on Rachel's auditions, she would be bored senseless with the repetitive songs they chose. Broadway hit after Broadway hit, over and over again. After a while, no matter how good or bad the performer, the auditions always sounded the same.

It was true with the monologues as well. Shakespeare, Broadway classics, Shakespeare, Broadway classics. Everyone who auditioned always pulled the same monologue out as though they were the first to discover it. Quinn quite liked the idea of Rachel doing something different and daring.

"Quinn," Rachel said, rolling her eyes as she faced the blonde. "Who would take a girl who lived in her car seriously? No. I should stick to what works."

"Rachel! It doesn't work if _everyone_ is singing the same song! And your monologue shouldn't be a 'classic' either. You should try something else! Have fun with it!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I _sit_ in those audiences, Rachel, I assure you, I know how boring it is to listen to _Memories _over and over again after the same idiot pulls out a fake skull and spews out _Hamlet _like a pretentious theatre dork! Am I the only one who actually read_ Hamlet? _That scene is hardly noteworthy! 'Get thee to a nunnery,' now _that's _a good scene. But I swear, Rachel, if you use Shakespeare for a monologue I'll pull an Ophelia, I'm not kidding."

Rachel scoffed, her hands on her hips, as she stared at Quinn. "And what would _you _have me do as a monologue? Something from the Swayze era, perhaps? Maybe a little Molly Ringwald?" Rachel chuckled ruefully at the thought.

"Okay, now _you _sound like a pretentious theatre dork. I'm not saying you get there and perform something ridiculous. I'm just suggesting that you think outside the box a little."

The diva scoffed again at the blonde's insult and shifted her weight. "And what do you suggest? Being the expert and all." Rachel asked sarcastically.

"Maybe something like Scout from _To Kill a Mockingbird. _It's different, yet a classic, and you're portraying a young girl who is innocent _yet _dealing with the trials of growing up in a small town amongst turmoil!" Quinn said excitedly as she sat up on her knees.

Rachel couldn't help but smile at how adorable Quinn was being; she really seemed enthusiastic. And…Rachel had to grudgingly admit that her ideas weren't too off-base. It would help if she could stand out, and using the song and Quinn's suggestion would do just that.

She wasn't really ready to agree, however, so she changed the subject. "What's in your hand?" Rachel asked, a smile still pulling at her lips as she gestured to the thick stack of papers Quinn was holding. Just as it had been all week, Rachel was unsettled in the blonde's presence. She was trying her best to block out her feelings but Quinn wasn't making it easy.

"Oh my, God, I can't believe I forgot. You'll _never _guess who I ran into on my way home."

"Sarah Jessica Parker!"

"No, Ma-"

"Bzzz, no, I have to guess!" Rachel said as she held up her hand and jumped over to the couch to take a seat beside the blonde again. Quinn rolled her eyes and stared blankly at the diva. "Woody Allen!"

"No, Ma-"

"You're not letting me guess!" Rachel squeaked. Quinn huffed again and folded her arms as she slightly turned to face the brunette in exasperation.

"Ma…ma…" Rachel sounded out her only clue and thought intensely. "Maaa Mark Harmon!"

"Who the hell is that?"

"Maaaa Martha Stewart!"

"Matt Rutherford, Rachel. I saw _Matt. Rutherford!" _

"Oh my, God!" Rachel exclaimed as she bounced a little on the couch before her face scrunched up in confusion and she finally sat still. "What's he been in again?"

"He's not an actor, Rach! Matt Rutherford. _McKinley's _Matt Rutherford! He was in glee club!" Rachel _ooohhhed _and then beamed.

"Wow, I haven't seen him since he transferred."

"I know! His dad got some telecommunications job or whatever in upstate New York. He's going to NYU for film."

"That's so amazing. God, that's why I love New York City; you never know who you'll run into." Quinn couldn't immediately return the sentiment. Although she quite liked New York City now, navigating the subway system took some work for the blonde. There were quite a few times where she had spent the day lost, riding the rails. And don't get her started on the smell.

"Yeah well we ended up talking for, like, an hour." Rachel bit her lip as she fought-off the jealously that suddenly washed over her.

"Isn't that nice." She deadpanned tensely.

"It was, actually." They were quiet for a moment. Rachel mentally did the math and she frowned further.

"So…if your meeting with Lydia was almost three hours ago and you were only with Matt for an hour…" Quinn narrowed her eyes momentarily before she started smiling.

"Are you jealous?"

"What? No! I was only wondering where you've been for the last hour, that's all." Rachel tried for nonchalance but even she had to admit her acting wasn't up to par.

"I was reading to answer your question. To answer your _original_ question, what is in my hand is a script. Matt's script to be exact."

"Matt wrote a script?" Rachel perked up, picking up the script to flip through it quickly.

"Yes. A _very good_ script, as a matter of fact. And he just so happens to be looking for a lead actress to star in it."

"Star?" Rachel echoed, flipping a little slower now. Quinn chuckled and scooted over closer to Rachel so she could look at the script as well.

"Yes, star. He's submitting it to _Sundance _and is on a tight schedule. But the basic premise is a romantic comedy about a girl who is tired of long-term relationships and all the heartache she's faced-" Rachel stopped listening after romantic comedy. She tossed the script to Quinn and got up to head to the kitchen with the intentions of heating up leftovers.

"Hey, get back here!" Quinn said, surprised by Rachel's sudden change of attitude.

"It's a rom-com, Quinn. No one takes romantic comedies seriously." She explained as he removed Tupperware from the fridge. Quinn followed her and leaned against the kitchen archway.

"Rachel, you're being ridiculous, you haven't even heard the whole plot!"

"I don't need to, Quinn. A film student making a romantic comedy is as pointless as a tree falling in the woods with no one present or a street performing for crying out loud. Who cares?"

"You're such a snob!" Rachel scoffed as she shut the refrigerator door and stuffed her leftovers into the microwave.

"I'll have you know, Quinn Fabray, that I watch the sequel to _Funny Girl, Funny Lady, _once a year!" Rachel admonished as she crossed her arms and wore an expression of self-importance.

Quinn stared blankly at the diva as her arms dropped to her sides. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Well it's _hardly _Barbra's best work, Quinn." Rachel scoffed. Quinn shook her head and approached the brunette.

"Rach, I'm serious. You should really read this script. It's smart, it's edgy, it's different, and I think it would be a really great opportunity!"

"Quinn! I'm a _stage _actress. I'm not supposed to start films and television for another four years! I have to be taken seriously as a Broadway star first, _then _I move onto frivolous roles such as romantic comedies and musical film adaptations that aren't _nearly_ as good as their Broadway counterparts—yet_ must _star in them so that no one will see anyone else playing such an iconic role besides me—thus cementing Rachel Berry into the part for all eternity. For example, the role as Maureen will forever belong to Idina Menzel or Fanny Brice is always Barbra."

The two girls were in a silent staring contest. Rachel blinked up at Quinn as though the matter was closed and Quinn stared down at Rachel as though she was crazy. "What's the harm?" Quinn finally challenged casually.

"Um, that it's an epic _failure _and a waste of time!"

"But you just said that a film students' work is inconsequential. So if it sucks, no one would ever know about it."

"I need to be preparing for _A Sweetness _and-"

"But _A Sweetness_ won't start production for at least a month and the movie will only take two weeks to film."

"Be that as it may-"

"Rachel! The script is good! Matt is our friend! He had some really amazing ideas and I truly think he can make this movie great! It's two weeks. Two weeks of your time. They film over the holidays so it won't interfere with school and I'll help you prepare for it!"

Rachel was quiet as she considered. Quinn seemed extremely passionate about the movie and the diva couldn't recall a time when the blonde had challenged her since high school. It was obvious that Quinn really wanted Rachel to do it.

"Why is this so important to you?" Rachel asked curiously. She genuinely wanted to know. She also kind of loved the fire in Quinn's eyes. It reminded her of Lima Quinn...but in a good way. In a God-I-want-to-kiss-her way.

Quinn jumped up onto the countertop as she tried to suss out exactly _why _it was so important to her. "Honestly?" Rachel nodded. "Because I think it would be great for your career." Rachel's brow furrowed and she indicated to Quinn that she should continue.

"Look at it this way. If the movie bombs, no one will see it. It won't get into _Sundance _and it will just become an embarrassing clip Leno will show during an interview with you as you promote your newest Broadway smash-hit. But, if it's good, it will get into _Sundance _and will start to circulate around the time _A Sweetness _hits the stage. Now, not only are you in a successful theatre star, but you have film credentials to back that up."

"You're assuming I get the role in _A Sweetness." _Rachel stated with a wave of her hand.

"Of course you will. You've only been rejected from one part and that was because the role was supposed to be for a woman three times your weight."

"I'm still uncertain why _that _was the issue. Don't those people have makeup artists? Clearly they've never seen Broadway shows, because your tour of Les Miz isn't complete until you've witness a fifty year old Asian woman playing the part of Éponine!"

"Rach," Quinn began after a moment of silence as she slid off the counter to wrap her arms around the diva's neck. "The point is that I want what's best for you. You'd be perfect for the role of Jocelyn and it would really show your range as an actor. And…" Rachel shook off the sensation of Quinn's arms around her and glanced up to see Quinn biting her lower lip.

"And what? What's wrong?" She asked quietly, unsure as to why the blonde had stopped talking suddenly.

"And I kind of want you to get notoriety quickly." Rachel narrowed her eyes in confusion as she took in Quinn's demeanor. The blonde seemed nervous and a little hesitant.

"What do you mean?" Quinn pulled away as she ran her fingers through her hair. She blew out a breath before she turned back to the brunette.

"If you get notoriety now, people will be less cautious in the future to cast you despite being…" Again Quinn trailed off.

"Despite being…?"

"Gay." Quinn finished as she stared at the floor. She was almost positive it was the first time she had ever said the word out loud. But it was something she thought about constantly. She was worried that people wouldn't want to cast Rachel if they knew about the blonde. It scared Quinn that she was more concerned about Rachel not getting parts because of their relationship solely because she wanted the brunette to get what she deserved. _Not _because it meant Quinn wouldn't get her pay day.

"Quinn! Really? That bothers you?" Rachel asked with a laugh.

"It doesn't bother you? Aren't you worried about your career?"

"No." Rachel answered with a shrug.

"How can it _not?_"

"Because the theatre is different than television and films. I'm not concerned. And I feel that my talent is big enough where it won't be an issue. So if you want me to take the part just because of that-"

"No, that's not the reason. I really, truly feel it will be the best move for you. Will you at least consider it?"

Rachel gazed at Quinn in contemplation. The brunette wondered just when the change happened—when_ exactly_ she started to listen to blonde over her own inner voice. But there was just _something _about the way Quinn spoke. The passion she conveyed. The conciseness in her voice. The way she leveled Rachel with her stare. She seemed so confident. Suddenly Rachel was wondering exactly what monologue from _To Kill a Mockingbird _to use. If she should arrange _Foolish Games _differently. If she would get to supply her own wardrobe for Matt's movie or if she would have to worry about a bunch of university film students dressing her.

"I'll think about it."

X

But Rachel didn't have to think about it. Not long after she had settled down on the couch with a vegan tofu apple spring roll, Quinn flipped to the first page of the script and began to read it out loud to the diva.

As the script progressed, Rachel found herself smiling, Quinn's arm around her, her fingers running through brown hair, as Rachel's body was tucked against the blonde's. They laughed together at certain parts, traded shy looks during the romantic scenes, and giggled at the all-around hilarity that Matt Rutherford had created. The movie was entitled _A Date a Month_, but Rachel already got it in her head that it was a tentative title. And so had Quinn.

The story was about a twenty-something girl who had had her share of heartache. After her friend, the obvious side-kick and comic relief, Sasha, dared her to go on a date a month for a year—and accept any dates when asked, despite how crazy the asker seemed—in an effort to open Jocelyn's heart, the lead found herself falling for one particular suitor. It _could _have been just any other romantic comedy. But what Matt did with it was quite charming and realistic.

By the time Quinn flipped over the last page, Rachel was already getting into Jocelyn's head. She couldn't help but feel akin to the fictional character and was getting excited at the prospect of acting out all the hysterical and physically comedic aspects. "It would be _so_ different from anything else I've thought about performing." Rachel mumbled as she played with Quinn's fingers absentmindedly, loving how safe the act made her feel.

"I know. That's why I think it will work. _A Sweetness _will be dramatic. And the challenges of working on the stage will give you the cred. But if you have an independent romantic comedy alongside of that, you won't get type casted and it will open a lot of doors." Rachel nodded, thoughtfully, and then suddenly smiled.

"You're very good at this, you know?"

"What's that?"

"It's not easy to scout out exceptional roles. You're very talented at anticipating public appeal and what sways audiences." And it was true. Ever since high school Quinn Fabray could always discern what the masses wanted. But instead of using her powers for evil like in high school, Rachel realized that Quinn's intuition could be beneficial. "Have you ever considered making it a career?"

Quinn called Matt to set up a meeting. Rachel insisted that it take place later on in the week, _after _her audition for _A Sweetness. _The boy was very interested in who Quinn had in mind to play the part of Jocelyn and easily agreed for their Wednesday rendezvous.

The blonde bit her lip as she disconnected with Matt. She hadn't mentioned to him over coffee earlier that day that she was living in New York with Rachel and that they were engaged. Although he had assured her that he no longer kept in touch with anyone from McKinley, Quinn was unsure as to how to go about bringing up Rachel. Wednesday's meeting would certainly be interesting. But she would worry about that later. In the meantime, they had an audition to prepare for.

Getting Rachel to the theatre for her audition was a mission within itself. The tiny diva had been prepared and ready for nearly two hours at the door, however, she wasn't Quinn-ready.

"Explain to me again why you want me to wear this?" Rachel huffed as she held the outfit away from her body as though it was about to catch fire. She had had her attire for the audition planned for weeks; Quinn's blatant disregarded for her method was erroneous.

"Because we need to show them that you can play both a young girl and an adult, Rachel," Quinn seethed with exasperation.

"And you do realize what you are insinuating, correct?" Rachel asked with attitude as she tossed the outfit onto the bed and turned on Quinn with her arms crossed.

"I don't understand the problem. I thought you'd be happy you'd get to wear it." Quinn hissed. They'd been arguing for almost an hour.

"Forgive me for suddenly being curious, but I was lead to believe that I could not be trusted to dress myself, therefore I should choose from a varying selection of Quinn Fabray-approved attire that you felt the need to purchase for me the very moment you were in possession of the allotted funds."

"And forgive _me _for spending my hard earned money on clothes for you! If I had _known _you were going to be a diva about it, I wouldn't have bothered!"

"I believe I _was _a diva about it! If I remember correctly I complained the entire _six hours _we spent shopping!"

"Well excuse me, Rachel, but I thought that that you'd eventually see that I was right and you were wrong, you're clothes are ugly and my style is exquisite, I have taste and you have none! Now put the damn outfit on!"

"You are as controlling now as you were in McKinley, Quinn Fabray, and I won't do a single thing you want me to do so help me, God, even if it's a matter of Life. Or. Death!"

Quinn growled loudly as she stomped her foot. "What is the problem? Why are you being so difficult? I'm only suggesting you wear one of your old argyle cardigans with a simple black skirt and flats! Why are you giving me such a hard time?"

"Because you are not so subtly suggesting that my old wardrobe is a mix between a child's and an old woman's!"

"No! I'm _not _being subtle at all! How can you even challenge that what you use to wear was okay?"

"You are insulting me!" Rachel shriek. Quinn rubbed her face and took several deep, cleansing breaths. The brunette huffed and turned to sit on the edge of the bed. She was livid. Over the course of the last few days, while she practiced _Foolish Games, _perfected her _To Kill a Mockingbird _monologue, and started memorizing Matt's script, Rachel started to fully realize the extent of her feelings for Quinn.

Every word out of the blonde's lips was more perceptive than Plato. Each action was more romantic than a Nicholas Sparks novel. Every deed, gesture, glance, compliment, and small encouragement was the epitome of a goddess. And this was not okay to Rachel. This was just a hop, skip, and jump from an obsessive Rachel Berry and the brunette couldn't have that. So she started arguing with Quinn. Over everything.

The poor blonde had no idea what she had done. She was just trying to be helpful. Quinn hadn't changed her routine at all. She was staying the course, following Rachel's lead. But suddenly Rachel had become a crazy lady. Quinn thought perhaps that Rachel's high school insanity had always been just below the surface since they've been living together, and finally, after a year and a half, the brunette had let it loose. Just like once a couple has been married, they start to get lax in their behavior. Gain a few pounds. Not make such an effort. Maybe Rachel had become comfortable and was resorting back to how she had been—but at her worst. Crack house worst.

So Quinn tried harder. She'd randomly bring home Rachel flowers. Set the dinner table with candles and Rachel's favorite meals. Compliment her a tad more. She even went as far as stopping by one of the brunette's classes to bring her take-out and to chat with the diva's friends. Quinn thought that would go over huge because Rachel likes to show off. But, it had the opposite effect.

Quinn Fabray was getting more and more perfect as the days passed. It was almost as though she was inside Rachel's head—a list of every single Rachel Berry weakness memorized and executed. She was half expecting Quinn to get a couple hundred people together to help serenade the diva in the middle of Times Square that was accompanied by a perfectly synchronized dance number.

Rachel was exhausted. She was doing her very best to not fall in love with Quinn but the blonde was making it absolutely impossible. So she started being difficult. Arguing. Anything to prevent Quinn from doing yet another amazing thing for her. Because if Quinn Fabray was pushed—which was surprisingly difficult to accomplish these days—perhaps she wouldn't be so damn sweet to Rachel and the brunette could get over her crush.

But the blonde was showing almost Dali Lama-like control. She'd only take deep breaths, count to ten, and find some annoyingly cooperative way of making a compromise. The stress of the audition and movie mixed with her feelings for Quinn was making Rachel press harder. It didn't help that Quinn knew what she was talking about. Her suggestions were ingenious. Her instincts were bold and right on point. And her mouth was the sexiest thing that Rachel Berry's eyes had ever seen. It was also kind of a catch twenty-two that a heated Quinn was an irresistible Quinn. Every time the blonde would get upset enough to shout back, Rachel felt that monster deep inside stir; moments away from attacking Quinn.

She was damned if she did and damned if she didn't.

"Okay," Quinn began, clapping her hands once as she sucked on her teeth. "I give up. Wear whatever you want. You've been dreaming about this moment all of your life and you must have a vision in your head of exactly how you want it to happen. If you want to wear the clothes I bought you, wear them. It's your big day, not mine."

_God, she's such a bitch! _Rachel mentally screamed. _Does she always have to say the most perfect things? _

Rachel was spared answering when the doorbell rang. Quinn let out another deep sigh and rang her fingers through her hair. "That's Lydia." The blonde left the room and Rachel watched her go. She heard Quinn answer the door and invite Lydia in as she eyed the two different outfits she had to choose from. The outfit that Quinn had bought her, or the outfit Quinn had picked out.

"Thanks for coming early." Quinn said with a sigh to her new employee. Lydia eyed the apartment with curiosity.

"Oh. I thought I was late." Quinn shook her head and went over to the living room table to retrieve the different keys Lydia would need for her clients while the dark-haired girl looked around.

The main wall of the living room was a light cream that had the only two windows in the room. The curtains were a steel blue to match the couch that sat in the middle of the space with two comfortable side-chairs of light cream with dark brown pillows. Lydia followed the deep brown trim around the top of the walls until she saw the back wall that displayed many different framed pictures. "Swanky digs." She commented as she walked over to the photos. "This your roommate?"

Quinn looked up from her work, still trying to sort out the keys Lydia would need. "Fiancé."

Lydia's eyebrows rose and she nodded. "I thought you were gay." Quinn's forehead crinkled in confusion. She wanted to refute the statement, but she could hardly contest against it…seeing how she _was _engaged to a girl.

"Here are the keys." Quinn prodded, holding the different sets out and waiting for Lydia to turn away from the pictures.

"You were in glee club?" Lydia asked instead, still focused on the back wall.

"Yep."

"Wow, you guys met in high school?" Quinn approached the picture Lydia was pointing to. It was from their senior year after winning Nationals.

"Sure did. Now you have to give Watson his meds. You remember how to do that, right? He'll be your second walk of the day."

"The pit bull, right?" Lydia asked, still distracted.

"No, he's the bull dog."

"Pit bull, bull dog, what's the difference; it's all a lot of bull. Where did you say you were going again?"

"Out. Here's the keys." Quinn handed them over and headed to the bedroom to check on Rachel's progress. Through the crack in door, Quinn watched as Rachel stood in front of their full-length mirror. She was wearing the argyle sweater and black skirt paired with white stockings and black flats; the outfit Rachel Berry use to wear in high school, and the outfit Quinn had picked out for the audition.

Quinn watched silently as Rachel mumbled to the mirror, probably going through her monologue once again. She leaned against the frame as Rachel's eyebrows furrowed in conviction; really getting into the piece. Quinn smiled slowly, realizing the exact part the diva had reached in the monologue, and let her eyes travel over the brunette. She was going to get the part. Quinn knew it. Her appearance promoted one of an innocent girl, hair up with a headband pushing back her bangs, with an air of naivety that the character of Cecile needed. When Rachel sang her song, she'd remove the headband and hastily let her slightly curled hair brush her shoulders for a more mature look.

Rachel nodded to her reflection, happy that she had every word down. When she turned, she was momentarily surprised to see Quinn staring at her from the doorway. But the blonde appeared distracted; just staring. "Ready to go?" Rachel quietly asked, still aware of Quinn's eyes on her intently.

Quinn cleared her throat and stood up straight. "Yeah, sorry. Whenever you're ready." Rachel nodded and brushed by Quinn to enter the living room.

"You must be Lydia. I'm Rachel Berry, nice to meet you." Rachel presented, holding out her hand for Lydia to shake. The dark-haired girl was still looking at the pictures and clutching the last remaining spring roll from the fridge, munching on it happily.

"Oh, hey." Lydia greeted. "I was hungry." Rachel looked over at Quinn in surprise and let her hand drop uncertainly.

"That's fine?" Rachel said, still looking questioningly at Quinn. The blonde only rolled her eyes at Lydia and moved to the kitchen to get the bag of things she thought Rachel would want after the audition: two bottles of water, a light snack, a stack of thank you cards she could write out while others were auditioning, and a Broadway crossword puzzle to distract the diva from panicking. This was more for Quinn. Rachel liked to go over each and every aspect of her audition until she had exhausted the topic ad nauseum. If Rachel was too busy trying to recall useless facts, Quinn wouldn't have to hear about it.

Just like Rachel wanted, they arrived at the theater an hour early. There were already people there and the diva was not pleased. But she headed backstage and began preparing as Quinn took a seat in the audience behind the director and those who sat next to him.

Throughout the _many _auditions, Quinn knitted and kept an ear out for whatever directions were giving to those on stage. When the director would call out something of importance, Quinn would quickly text Rachel what it was so the diva wouldn't make the same mistake. This is something they had worked out after Rachel's first audition.

Quinn threw her knitting aside when Rachel's name was called out, and sat up straight in her seat as the diva took the stage. The blonde smiled. Rachel looked completely at ease up there and felt a sense of pride because of her confidence. Loudly and clearly, Rachel walked along the stage as she recited her monologue. It was perfect. Quinn knew it would be. Regardless, the blonde still filmed the audition because Rachel liked to critique her work.

After the monologue was finished, the three people in front of Quinn put their heads together to chat quietly. Quinn strained her ears to try and listen, but she couldn't hear a thing. Rachel just stood patiently on stage, hands behind her back, one leg in front of the other, hair already down, and waited until she was asked to sing. Suddenly the three heads pulled apart, and the director indicated for Rachel to continue.

It was easy for Rachel to call forth her emotions to make the song believable. She couldn't see Quinn in the audience amongst the bright lights shining in her eyes, but she knew the blonde was there. She used Quinn as her muse, recalling her features and her voice, their touches and kisses, everything that the blonde had done for her over the past year and a half. She sang with the conviction of a girl who was in the process of having her heart broken. It was an easy song to sing.

In the audience, Quinn's breath caught as she watched Rachel belt out the number. She had heard the diva practice it the last few days but this time was different. This time, Rachel actually seemed to be writing the words as she sang them. As usual, her voice was perfect. But the raw emotion she sang with was what made the performance.

"Thank you," The director called out as he jotted down some notes. "We'll be in touch." Rachel nodded once, still slightly out of breath from her performance, and hurriedly went backstage.

The sound of the three different men in front of her arguing is what finally knocked Quinn out of her Rachel-haze. She pulled her eyes away from where Rachel had just disappeared and watched as one of the men said something to the director before he got up in a huff.

Quinn guessed he wasn't pleased about something. She didn't really care. She was more concerned about when Rachel would appear again so that she could give the diva her water. She knew Rachel would be very thirsty. She'd probably want her snack too. She didn't eat much breakfast.

If, at that moment, Quinn Fabray had picked up her knitting, she would have missed it all together. Instead, she let her gaze stay focused on the young man who was still trying to say something to the director, leaning over his chair and whispering heatedly in the man's ear. Something about him made Quinn watch though. She felt something in the pit of her stomach. Something growing. Something flip. Something that made Quinn suddenly want to crouch down and growl in warning. She hadn't felt that in quite a while. Not since she had been pregnant.

And when the young man straightened himself, buttoned his coat, and purposefully walked down the aisle, Quinn understood. Her lip twitched and her heart raced and when he caught sight of her, her mouth twisted into a snarl.

"Quinn Fabray," Jesse St. James said as he halted in the aisle. His head was cocked and he looked as smug as ever. "Fancy meeting you here." Jesse's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he appraised her before snapping his fingers. Suddenly a young man hurried over to his side and handed Jesse his bag.

Quinn remained silent, setting her features to look bored and uncaring, as her fingers went to work on the scarf she had been knitting.

"No longer pregnant, I see." Jesse commented as he wrote something down on the notebook in his hands. Quinn looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow. He was smirking back as he continued to write. "I assume you are here for Rachel?" Quinn turned back to her knitting and decided ignoring the boy would be the best course of action. If she didn't look at him, she wouldn't feel so compelled to murder him. "Do see that she gets this, will you? I would like to speak with her before productions begins." He asked, holding out the note.

Quinn's head jerked up. "Before production begins? Does that mean…?" Jesse chuckled self-importantly.

"Please see she gets it?" But Quinn dismissed the note with a scoff and turned back to her knitting. "George, can you please wait for Ms. Berry and give this to her?" Jesse asked the boy still standing next to him. George eagerly agreed and Jesse turned back towards Quinn. "Such a pleasure seeing you again, Quinn. Perhaps next time I'll just continue walking."

"Sounds good to me, St. James." Again Jesse smirked.

"Better hurry, Quinn. By your reputation, you're going to need to knit those booties a little faster." It took everything in Quinn not to jump from her seat. It took even more not to respond in any way whatsoever. She just concentrated on knitting. But once Jesse was gone, Quinn cracked her neck and threw aside her scarf.

Quinn couldn't remember the last time her heart raced so quickly. She was also aware that she was sweating. Finn. She could deal with Finn. Puck would be absolutely no problem. Quinn didn't have to worry about any new guys popping up into Rachel's life. But Jesse St. James was trouble. For several reasons. For one, he was smart. Two, he was almost as manipulative as Quinn. And three, his past with Rachel had been left unfinished.

_Fuck fuck fuck, shit shit shit, damn it damn it damn it! _Quinn mentally cursed. Her body was shaking and she suddenly felt nauseated. She was panicked and nervous and instantly wanted her arms around Rachel just so she knew the girl couldn't slip away.

Like a caged animal, Quinn jumped up and took a few long strides down the aisle towards the doors. She was aware that George was trailing her and she spun around to search the darkened auditorium to see if she could spot Rachel. Quinn knew it was no use, though; Rachel wouldn't be done her after-audition ritual yet. The blonde rubbed her face and tried to calm herself. The chances of Rachel knowing that Jesse had been on the casting panel were slim; the diva hadn't hesitated for even a moment when she was on stage. If she had seen Jesse, Quinn would have read it on her face.

_Well that's hardly comforting! _

_At least she doesn't know he's in New York. And maybe she won't get the part, maybe she won't have to see him!_

"_I would like to speak with her before productions begins."That _sounds _like she got the part! _

_No, he's an ass. Maybe he wants her to get in contact with him before production starts for _him. _Not her. _

_You lost me. The bottom line is, Jesse St. James is back and we're screwed! _

_No! No we're not! She loves _us! _She's engaged to _us! _This means nothing, this _changes _nothing!_

_This changes everything, Fabray, and you know it. _

_But she's with us! _

_When does that mean anything? You're engaged but there isn't a ring on her finger. You two haven't set a date. You're not even sleeping together! _

_I love how when there's a problem, it's suddenly _my _problem, and not _our _problem! _

_Well you're the screw up. _

_Stop! Just stop! I need to think, I need to figure out what to do here. _

_Well you can't tell her about him. _

_That guy is standing right there! He's going to give her Jesse's note and then she'll know! _

_Well think of something, she can't get that note. _

_But if she gets the part, she'll find out about him anyway. _

_This is bad._

_I said stop!...look, we can work with this. We'll-we'll step it up some more. We'll be even sweeter than we normally are. _

_What more can we do? _

_I don't know, okay! _

_We'll you better think fast, because here she comes. _

_Fuck fuck fuck, shit shit shit, damn it damn it damn it! _

"I think that went well." Rachel stated as she walked over to Quinn.

"Hey, Rach!" Quinn turned around and immediately swept the diva in her arms, holding her tightly as she closed her eyes. The blonde instantly felt better just holding the brunette, soaking up her warmth and familiar smell, and pulled Rachel even closer in a means to calm down.

"You okay?" Rachel whispered, completely caught off-guard by the overly warm reception but loved how closely she was being held.

"You were amazing." Quinn whispered back, truly meaning it, still keeping her arms around the diva. Over Rachel's shoulder, the blonde saw George anxious eyes dart around the room before glancing back to the embracing girls. This gave Quinn an idea.

Pulling away slightly from the Rachel, Quinn cupped her face and leveled her with her eyes. "Seriously, baby, you were absolutely incredible." The pet name only tripped Rachel up for a moment before she remembered she had several misgivings about the audition.

"Well at first- _Ompf!" _Rachel was nearly bowled over by the impact of the sudden kiss. Quinn's enthusiasm was shocking and the diva felt the air get knocked out of her lungs as she clung to the front of Quinn's white pea coat to stay on her feet.

With the adrenaline of her audition still coursing through her, Rachel went from nervous anxiety to blood-curdling arousal within seconds. Rachel moaned deeply as Quinn sucked on her bottom lip and then slid her tongue alongside her own. The blonde panted against Rachel's lips as her mouth feasted on the diva's with a hunger Rachel had no problem matching. Quinn's one hand caressed Rachel's naked neck as the other gripped the diva's hip with such enthusiasm that Rachel wasn't sure where it was headed. She somehow didn't care—mentally begging Quinn to run it down her butt, or up her shirt, or even down her pants.

The blonde was dizzy from lack of oxygen. She tried desperately to remember the reason for starting the kiss but all that she could come up with was a fuzzy image of Rachel mumbling in front of their bedroom mirror. Watching the diva pace on stage with her eyes sparkling and her smile wide. Sitting on the couch in the living room with her bare feet underneath her, flipping pages of Matt's script as she scribbled notes in the margins. Strutting up the aisle in the theater with her hands buried in the pockets of her long coat with a thoughtful expression. Each image had Quinn tumbling further and pulling Rachel closer. She could feel the diva's breasts pressed against her own, hard nipples brushing, and small, soft hands stroking her skin. Without realizing it was slipping, the soft whimper tumbled from Quinn's mouth as she clutched at Rachel's hip and wove her fingers into rich, dark hair.

The sound startled the diva. She couldn't remember ever hearing Quinn moan quite like that. It was a rarity when Quinn would moan at all. She was usually so controlled. But the soft mew was like hot coals to an already raging fire and Rachel took the pale hand on her hip and slowly guided it underneath her shirt.

"_Shit_." _Wow, Quinn's voice just sounded really deep…wait a second._ Rachel yanked away from Quinn and whirled around to find a young guy staring at her with heavy-lidded eyes and a vacant expression. When she turned back to Quinn in embarrassment—thoroughly shocked that she had let their heated make out session get that far, in public no less—she found a similar look on Quinn's face. The blonde's chest was heaving as she panted and her eyes, swirling with specks of green, were trained on Rachel's mouth.

"We should probably get out of here." Rachel mumbled, relieved to see that those in the audience were busy with the act on stage and not paying her or Quinn any mind. She was, however, slightly shocked to realize that the girl on stage had been singing. Rachel couldn't remember hearing singing moments ago. _Well that was some kiss…_

As Quinn felt Rachel tug on the sleeve of her pea coat, she stumbled forward and followed obediently. Her mind was an ADD mess of everything and nothing. The music coming from the stage sounded as though it had been recorded under water and the darkness of the theatre was giving her tunnel vision. She was still shaking and her mouth was completely dry.

When George silently reached out to give Rachel Jesse's note, Quinn plucked it from his fingers and allowed herself to be pulled away by Rachel, frowning at the boy over her shoulder. "Mine." Quinn mouthed to him, pointing at Rachel and then herself as the diva guided them towards the bright exit.

"Whew!" Rachel exclaims once they hit the noisy streets of New York City before she starts giggling. "I think we got a little caught up in there." Quinn smiles slightly as Rachel looped her arm around Quinn's. Rachel continued smiling as they slowly cut down Broadway and looked around the busy streets. "I love New York at Christmas time." Rachel's adrenalin was still pumping. She felt an overwhelming giddiness that had quite a few sources. True, Rachel did love New York at Christmas time. And yes, she was very pleased to have just nailed her audition. But walking in New York City at Christmas time after you just nailed an audition pales in comparison to getting Quinn Fabray to moan. She was almost positive she read that somewhere. Maybe it was that one time when she was hiding in the men's locker room to avoid getting Slushied.

Rachel giggled again as she recalled the look on George's face. It felt like the best day of Rachel Berry's life. In contrast, Quinn felt as though a weight had settled in her stomach. Or maybe it was Jesse's letter she had stuffed in her pocket. She tried to block it from her mind as she fished out the two bottles of water from her bag and handed one over to Rachel.

"Oh! Thank you! You don't happen to have any of those-" Quinn offered over the banana muffins she had made late the previous night before she sucked down half of the second bottle of water. "Perfect. Thank you, Quinn." Rachel gushed before she took a bite. "Mmm, I hardly ate any breakfast I was so nervous." Quinn grinned and rolled her eyes. Rachel hadn't been nervous, she had been excited. The diva was always excited before auditions.

"What did you want to do this year for the holidays?" Rachel questioned as she watched a couple of tourist take pictures.

"What we did last year was fine." Quinn mumbled. She didn't want to think of the holidays. She felt terrible. She felt like the world's biggest asshole. The guilt over lying to Rachel had suddenly—seemingly out of nowhere—crashed upon her like a bucket of ice water. Without examining it too closely, Quinn thought of their kiss and realized that each one was getting dangerous. They were on the cusp of more and the blonde pushed the image of more aside for now. She knew Rachel was too good for her. She had always known that. But seeing Jesse St. James had awoken a primal protectiveness inside the blonde. Rachel may have been too good for Quinn, but at least she knew she had Rachel's best interest at heart. Quinn suddenly felt panicky, thinking of someone else, anyone else, being with the brunette. They wouldn't know how to take care of her like Quinn did. They wouldn't treat her right.

"Maybe this year for Chanukah we can find a different very New York thing to do each night? And for my birthday we'll…I don't know, have a fancy dinner out and stay at a hotel room or something. Maybe go dancing? How does that sound?"

"Mmm hmm." Quinn hummed with a nod.

"Although my fathers have been bugging to visit." Rachel slipped in as she shot the blonde a glance from the corner of her eye.

"Sure. Whatever you want." Quinn consented without listening.

"Really?"

"Hmm."

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Whatever you want, Rach."

"But you're not even listening."

"That sounds good."

"Great, then I think we should start talking about kids."

"Okay."

"I want four. You'll carry two and I'll carry two."

"Great."

"I want an anonymous donor. We'll fertilize the sperm with my egg and then you'll carry the first two just like that. After my career is successful we'll use the same donor, fertilize them with your eggs, and I'll carry. Sound good?"

"Kay."

"That way the kids I carry will look just like you but I'll feel a connection to them and vice versa. Still listening hard?"

"Whatever you want, Rach."

"Your obedience is very sexy, Quinn. I'll call my fathers tonight about visiting." Quinn just nodded this time. "They'll be very excited to hear about you. It's not that I didn't want to tell them about us, I was just waiting we were a little older; they can be a little old-fashioned about these types of things. You don't mind right? Me telling them when they arrive? Quinn?"

Quinn finally looked up from her shoes and glanced over at Rachel. The diva was looking up at the blonde with big puppy eyes. "You don't mind, right?" Quinn tore her eyes away from Rachel's lips and shook her head.

"I don't mind." Rachel beamed and stretched up on tippy toes to peck Quinn's cheek.

"Lovely. I'll make the call this evening." Quinn's eyebrows furrowed but she remained silent as they continued their walk home.

The foreboding feeling in Quinn's stomach only worsened by Rachel's tone. She was positive that she just missed a whole lot of important stuff. But the diva was high on life. She knew that perhaps tomorrow she would go back to worrying about a broken heart. But for today, she was walking with Quinn after a successful audition. She'd worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

Rachel took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, loving the crisp, cool air she felt in her lungs. "I really do love New York at Christmas time."


	5. Chapter 5 Love, Actually

Chapter Five: Love, Actually

Quinn sat on the living room couch and absentminded flipped through the pages of her magazine. Every so often, her eyes would flick to the DVD player as she noted the time. _Where the hell is Rachel?_ The diva had said she had a surprise for Quinn; for her to make dinner, relax, and she'd be back shortly.

That was nearly an hour ago. Quinn stretched and groaned loudly. They were to meet with Matt and his film crew early the next day on NYU's campus and it was getting rather late. Dinner was warming in the oven, the wine Rachel had requested was chilling in an ice bucket, and the two candles the blonde had lit danced as they waited for the diva. _If she wants to run through Matt's script one more time, she'd better get her ass home soon._ Quinn thought as she threw back her head onto a couch pillow.

Quinn hated surprises. Her only hint was that Rachel seemed _very _excited about it. Impatiently, the blonde tossed her magazine onto the living room table and sat in silence. With her big toe, she nudged the book Rachel had purchased for her earlier that day until it hit the ground with a _thump_. _So, You're Converting to Judaism?_, stared back at her from the floor and Quinn heaved a heavy sigh before she rubbed her face with her hands.

A distant, cloudy memory popped into her head when Rachel beamed and handed over the book. Although Quinn had been drunk at the time, it was rather difficult to forget confessing your non-existent love to a girl you had spent the majority of high school tormenting. Unfortunately, the checklist of things Quinn would do for Rachel was also unforgettable. _Did I really _have _to tell her I'd convert? Was that _really _necessary. _

Quinn sighed again. _Where the hell is Rachel? _

Quinn sat up suddenly at the sound of laughter and voices in the hallway. "It's about time." The blonde mumbled as she got to her feet. When Quinn heard a deep, male voice respond to whatever Rachel had said, Quinn narrowed her eyes and slowly approached the door.

Before she reach for the knob, however, the door flung open and bounced off the wall with a _bang_ and flourish There, in the doorway, Rachel stood proudly, grin ear to ear, as her eyes sparkled back at Quinn.

"Quinn Fabray! Meet my fathers! Again!" The blonde didn't even have time to react. Before she knew what was happening, she was being engulfed by two different sets of arms as Rachel's fathers danced on the spot and cheered in her embrace.

Quinn's wide eyes stared at the diva as Rachel smiled and clapped in excitement. Quinn had _no _idea what was happening.

"…Oh! If we had only known that night who you were…"

"…I'm so happy for you both and I cannot _wait _to start making preparations…"

"…You have no idea how excited we are…"

"…You make our little girl so _happy_…"

"…I promised myself I wouldn't cry…"

The sentences overlapped in such a break-neck speed, Quinn could barely understand a word. She was just very aware that the two men were still hugging her tightly as they jumped up and down, babbling away in joy.

"Dad, daddy," Rachel laughed finally, getting their attention.

"Give Quinn a moment to breathe!"

"Where are our manners? Honey, why don't we give these two love birds a moment and we can go freshen up?" Both men hugged their daughter again before quickly sweeping out of the room leaving squeals of elation in their wake.

"So…surprise!" Rachel said, throwing out her arms as she smiled.

"Uh huh." Quinn said, mouth still hanging open as she approached the diva slowly.

"Now, Quinn, you can't be mad." Rachel rushed out quickly as she started to back away. "They're my fathers and since we are engaged it is only fair that we tell them of our relationship, you have the proper meeting, and you respectfully ask for my hand in marriage!" Rachel squeaked before she raced around the living room couch to avoid Quinn's dive.

"Rachel! How could you not tell me they were coming? The apartment is a mess, I look like a slob, and I only made Seitan and mushroom stroganoff! That's hardly acceptable for our first real dinner together!" Quinn hissed out quietly from one side of the couch as Rachel protected herself behind the arm of the other.

"Quinn Fabray! The apartment is immaculate, as usually, my fathers _love _stroganoff, and you look as beautiful as ever! I just knew that you'd be your insane, anal retentive self if you had notice! I was doing you a favor!" Rachel whispered back.

Rachel was spared Quinn's angry retort when her fathers came out of the bathroom cheerily. "So…who wants to give us the tour?"

Even though Quinn felt like she had been ambushed, dinner had gone very smoothly. Rachel's father gushed over Quinn's cooking. It went something like this:

"_Mmm_, Rachel, I'm so jealous that you live in New York City where vegan food is worshiped and glorified to its fullest extent!"

"Actually, daddy, Quinn made dinner." Rachel beamed, rubbing the pale hand she was holding as the blonde blushed.

"Shut. Up! She cooks, too!"

They complimented Quinn's exquisite style all throughout the tour that proceeded dinner. "My, my, my, the girl has got taste, sweetie. No wonder she's with you!"

"We'll have to have Quinn redo the ol' Berry estate! She could use a good once over!"

"That's because you take the show _Hoarders _literally." Rachel giggled at her daddy.

"He _loves _knickknacks." Rachel filled in for the blonde.

As they all sipped wine in the living room and got acquainted with Quinn, the blonde couldn't help but feel a _tad _overwhelmed by all the questions they were hurling her way.

"Do you enjoy dog walking?"

"Do you want to turn it into a career?"

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

"Would you like an outside ceremony, or something traditional?"

"How long after the wedding until we can start asking for grandkids?"

"Rachel said that you're planning on four. You'll both carry two apiece? That's wise."

Quinn, by now, was struggling to keep her composure. She was pretty sure the subject of kids had never been approached and the bland smile on her face was starting to lose its self life.

Luckily Rachel did most of the answering. All Quinn was truly required to do was nod along and smile. But towards the end of their evening, even _that _was proving to be challenging.

It was hard not to like Rachel's fathers. They were both warm, kind, and personable. It was obvious to see that they adored their daughter and were just really excited about the news of their engagement. She assumed they couldn't keep up their extremely high level of enthusiasm _all _the time. _To holy, God, I hope not! _

At around midnight, Rachel hopped up from her spot next to Quinn on the couch and smiled at both of her fathers. "I will now leave the three of you alone so that you can discuss my hand in marriage." She kissed Quinn's stunned lips softly before she went to each one of the side chairs to peck her fathers' cheeks. Three sets of heads turned and watched Rachel until she closed the bedroom door behind her. Then, both Berry men were grinning eagerly at Quinn.

The blonde laughed awkwardly and their smiles grew. The room filled with awkward silence until Quinn no longer thought she could stand it. "So…" She started, gnawing on her lip and shifted her gaze back and forth between both men. "Can I marry Rachel?"

The room exploded with yeses before both men were on their feet, pulling her into their arms, as they jumped and cheered around her.

In the bedroom, Rachel grinned with her ear against the door, eyes tightly shut, and her heart swelling tremendously.

X

It seemed as though the Berry men were going to be the highlight of their coming out experience.

Matt's eyes traveled from one girl to the next in slow contemplation. Rachel Berry, as per usual, was smiling brightly with her "show face" on and her hands intertwined on top of the table. Beside her, looking stone-faced and challenging, was Quinn Fabray. Matt needed a break from both girls and their familiar expressions, and glanced down at the eight by ten glossy headshot that Rachel had provided. It was almost chilling how closely the real thing and the picture resembled one another at that moment.

"Soooo…let me…I'm just having a difficult…" Matt cleared his throat and reminded himself to use his "big boy" voice. It was something he had learned in film school and now was the perfect time to use it; without a doubt, the two most intimating people Matt Rutherford had ever met in his life were Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray—for two _very _different reasons. "You two are engaged?"

"Yes." They both simultaneously answered. Rachel said it with a smile and emphatic nod, whereas Quinn almost growled it out. To be fair, Matt had asked the question seven times thus far in their meeting.

The boy shook his head and tried to hold on to some sense of reality. When he had left William McKinley, he was none too pleased about it. He missed everything. Sometimes, he went to his local Quick Mart to get a Slushie for nostalgia purposes. He drew the line at dumping it on top of his head, but he missed the school nonetheless. He missed his losing football team and the echo of the terrifyingly comforting sound of Sue Sylvester's shouts via her bullhorn. He missed Karofsky pushing him the locker room, the swishing of red and white polyester sashaying down the halls, tater tots in the caf. But most of all, most of all he missed glee club. But as he glanced across the table at the two girls, he realized he missed more than the school. He had missed A. Lot.

"Since when?" He blurted out, still thoroughly confused.

"Well, Quinn officially asked me to marry her on July-"

"No, I'm sorry. When did you two start dating? I mean, no, I don't still talk to anyone from McKinley, but I'm pretty sure _someone _would have told me about this!"

"No one knows. It happened after graduation. We're happy and in love. Can we please move on?" Matt wasn't surprised by the blonde's tone. He was very familiar with Quinn Fabray's…_charm_. What startled him more was the look on Rachel's face. She was smiling so warmly at the oblivious blonde—her eyes actually sparkling—it left little room to refute Quinn's statement.

"Ah…yes. Sorry. I'm just a little…" Matt cleared his throat and shuffled the papers in front of him. "Yea, let's move on."

The audition itself didn't take long. The process before it, however, was quite the endeavor. There was a _huge _protest that Rachel didn't need to actually have an audition. Surprisingly, it didn't come the diva, but from Quinn. "Matt! You _know _how talented Rachel is! Why is this even necessary?"

Eventually Rachel placed her hand on Quinn's forearm, and smiled softly at the blonde before turning to Matt and his crew. "An audition would be just fine."

Rachel already had the script memorized, and Matt and his crew were bowled-over by that fact alone. She ran through several different scenes—angst, humor, and romance—before she finally smiled and took a seat calmly, waiting for the boys to make up their minds. Quinn was at the diva's side without prompting, and quickly produced a bottle of water for Rachel who took it graciously.

Without a word, the five boys traded stunned expressions before Matt cleared his throat and announced that Rachel most definitely had the part. "We start filming in two weeks and-"

"May I provide my own wardrobe?" Rachel asked as she accepted the snack Quinn prepared for her. Matt was momentarily halted but not by the question, but the extreme attentive nature of Quinn Fabray. He could hardly believe his eyes. He never saw the blonde go out of her way…_ever. _To watch her fawn over Rachel Berry was shocking.

"Yeah, that's fine." Jared, one of the Matt's crew answered for the still-stunned boy.

"Lovely." Rachel answered with a smile. "Would you need me to provide anything else?"

"No," Jared answered again, noticing how puzzled Matt's expression had grown. "But we'll let you know." Rachel nodded and jumped to her feet as Quinn collected their things.

"I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for the chance to be in a film that I'm sure will be excellent. I assure you all that I will put a full one-hundred and fifty percent into my role and only ask you do the same. Until we meet again." Rachel smiled broadly and handed over her bag for Quinn who accepted it easily. The pair then left the small NYU classroom without another word.

"Those two could probably rule the world." Zach muttered, his eyes still where the two girls had departed.

"I don't think we know the half of it." Matt mumbled back, still unsure of what just took place. His first instinct was to call Mike. They hadn't spoken in some time, but he was sure his old friend would want to know about Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry. But Quinn's stern words rumbled through his head and he quelled the impulse.

The blonde had made it quite clear that she wasn't ready for anyone from McKinley to know. While Rachel didn't seem to mind, Quinn simply admitted that she didn't want the glee club to hound her with questions. She wasn't friends with any of them and if all that they were interested in was gossip, they didn't deserve it. He was further stunned when the blonde went as far to admit that what she and Rachel had shouldn't be discussed amongst the gleeks as though it were tabloid-fodder. And Matt could agree that it would become just that if it were in the hands of his old classmates. He suddenly felt very protective of the couple. He didn't want to share their secret. Although Quinn still had lasers attached to her eyes, watching her fawn of the diva was actually heartwarming and really very sweet.

"So, we like Rachel?" Matt finally asked, looking down at the row of boys.

"Totally." Zach said with excitement. "And it's awesome she's gay cause now my girlfriend won't get pissy that I have to make out with her in the movie!" Matt nodded thoughtfully and ignored the rest of the enthusiasm his friends were spouting. Never in a million years did he ever think he'd run into Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray again—never mind at the same time, with the two girls engaged—but now that he had he was feeling really rather happy about it. And he couldn't quite shake the sensation that something truly huge was about to happen. Like he was fated to run into Quinn that day. Like this movie wasn't just going to be just a blip on the radar. That this was just the beginning.

X

"…And even _I _have to admit that Zachary is quite a leading man. And Jared's camera technique is unusually advanced for someone his age. Matt seemed generally passionate about the script and you were right about his unique ideas. Paul and Chris certainly seemed knowledgeable about lighting and sound, respectfully, and I'm pleased with our meeting. I know I shouldn't get my hopes up, but I'm admittedly ecstatic with the group of individuals that Matt has put together and overall feel as though _A Date a Month—_tentative title—will be a grand success!"

Quinn smiled softly at the pacing Rachel as she sat leaning up against the wall beside their breakfast table. The whole way home from the audition, Rachel hardly took a breath as she recounted every event. Quinn too, was pleased about the meeting. _A Date a Month_—tentative title—had the makings of something great. And it had proved a nice distraction for Rachel, who normally would be checking their apartment phone every half hour after a theatre audition waiting to hear if she got a part or not. There was still no word on _A Sweetness_, but it was only a matter of time.

As the diva continued to ramble away about the movie, Quinn thought about the ticking clock in her head. Yes, she wanted Rachel to get the role of Cecile in the play, but that would mean she'd be working with Jesse St. James. She would know that he was in the city and wanted to speak with her.

Quinn only wrestled with her morals for a solid fifteen minutes before she read the note Jesse had written for Rachel. In elegant script, the boy wrote: _Rachel, it feels as though an eternity has passed since I've had the pleasure of watching you perform. Please contact me at your earliest convenience so that we may have the satisfaction of trading war-stories and pleasantries. I hope this note has found you well. You've been magnificently missed.-Jesse. _

The blonde actually dry-heaved as she read it. His pompous grandeur leapt of the page and sickened Quinn with a deep sense of foreboding that had followed her around ever since that day. She was at constant war with herself how she should handle the Jesse situation and she was actually losing sleep over it.

On one hand: survival of the fittest. Quinn couldn't shake the sensation that she should keep Rachel as far away from Jesse as possible. She should burn the note and burry the ashes underneath a landfill on the other side of the globe. On the other hand: Rachel. Whether or not the diva received the role of Cecile in _A Sweetness _was inconsequential. Jesse was in the city. They were now in similar circles and there was a very good chance Rachel would run into him. It wouldn't be fair to the diva if she were blindsided. Whatever Rachel's feelings towards Jesse were, Quinn knew that she would have to tell Rachel the truth. The blonde was just hoping for later rather than sooner.

Her hope was ill-timed.

The shrill ringing of their apartment line disrupted Rachel's monologue. She still tried to finish her latest observations over the ringing of the phone as she entered the kitchen. "This is Rachel Berry, how may I help you?" Quinn heard float through the apartment. She grinned to herself at the formal response as she made idle patterns on the tabletop with her fingertips.

Rachel had only gotten the apartment phone so that she could give out a New York City area code for auditions. Her reasoning was that it seemed more professional than a Lima area code and Quinn agreed wholeheartedly and willingly made the payments.

At the prolonged silence from Rachel, Quinn furrowed her brow and got to her feet to see why her very gregarious fiancé was currently so silent. Quinn crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen archway as she studied Rachel's blank expression. Her face was very pale but she seemed more or less okay.

"Is everything okay?" Quinn mouthed. Rachel nodded only once.

"Uh huh, yes, I understand, Mr. Caruso…" Rachel lightly laughed and Quinn smiled at the sound, relieved that everything appeared to be fine. "Yes, Stefan, of course, I apologize for my formality." Quinn watched as Rachel _uh huhed _and _sured_ a few more times; her curiosity piqued.

"And may I ask his reasoning behind that? I'm not entirely sure you are familiar with our history-" A slow smile spread across her face before she briefly closed her eyes. To Quinn, it appeared as though Rachel had just received news she wasn't thrilled about, but she smiled again.

"Well I appreciate you overlooking that and can assure you that I, am a professional." She shared a laugh with whoever Stefan Caruso was before she thanked the man and quickly hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Quinn asked as she followed Rachel into the living room. The diva appeared calm and not at all effected by her phone call.

"It was Stefan Caruso." Rachel said with an off-handed shrug. Quinn's eyes widened slightly as she looked around the room.

"And that is…?"

"I suppose…" Rachel trailed off as she slowly moved in front of Quinn, peering up at her as though she were deep in thought. "I suppose you can say that Stefan Caruso is my boss."

Quinn brow crinkled before she went slack jawed and her eyes became saucers. "Stefan Caruso the director." Quinn rushed out in a rumbled of words.

"Uh huh." Rachel answered playfully as she moved even closer to Quinn.

"Stefan Caruso the director of _A Sweetness?_"

"Uh huh."

"And?" Quinn finally shrieked out, frustrated that Rachel wasn't more forthcoming as she stood on pins and needles.

"Oh, just that he loved _Foolish Games_. Something about my monologue being inspiring…perhaps he may have mentioned me getting the part of Cecile."

There was a long, drawn-out beat, before the apartment finally erupted with the sound of screams and shrieking. "You got the part? You got the part?"

"I got the part!" Rachel cheered out as she jumped and twisted on the spot before she threw herself onto Quinn who fell back onto the living room couch—tangled with Rachel.

They were screaming and shrieking so loud, neither one could make out what the other was saying. Rachel sat up, astride Quinn's hips, as she threw her arms in the air and proceeded to thank every Broadway diva she aspired to be.

Quinn finally calmed down enough to just watch Rachel's overwhelming joy, chuckling and near tears as Rachel's own started to cascade down her face.

"You did it, Rach." Quinn stated, so humbled in that moment to witness the start of Rachel's dream. "You freaking did it!"

Rachel's laughter had morphed into tears so quickly she didn't even know when the transition had taken place. Quinn's words silenced her until she glanced down at the blonde in awe.

"I'm going to be in an off-Broadway show, Quinn!" Quinn beamed back and nodded.

"Yes you are, Rachel Berry."

"I'm going to get to do what I love!"

"You're going to defy gravity." Rachel's face lit up as her chest heaved in excitement, tears still falling.

"I have to call my fathers." Quinn nodded, still smiling as her own tears welled. She had never felt so accomplished, and it was Rachel's dream that had come true, not even her own. But witnessing Rachel's elation was unlike anything else she had ever experienced.

"They're going to freak. I'm so happy for you that they're here for this." Rachel nodded absentmindedly as she grew quiet. Quinn just enjoyed looking up at the diva as the different emotions played across her face.

"I could never have done this without you."

"You would have." Quinn said back fondly. But Rachel shook her head.

"I owe you everything." Rachel whispered, looking down at Quinn with a smile.

"I'm sure you'll pay me back." The blonde smirked. Rachel nodded before her own smirk appeared.

"I must call my fathers." Quinn laughed and squeezed Rachel's hips once.

"Then do it, crazy girl! You're going to be in an off-Broadway show! Then it will be bought out and then you'll be in an _on-_Broadway show!" Quinn laughed as she watched the stunned smile make its way on Rachel's face.

"Quinn." Rachel mumbled, suddenly a little somber. The blonde grinned at the glazed-over look in the diva's eyes.

"What, superstar?" She giggled.

"I think I've just found the world's biggest aphrodisiac. Quinn's eyebrows furrowed as she cocked her head.

"Huh?"

But all other words and questions were lost as Rachel crashed her lips down upon Quinn's. It seemed to the blonde that Rachel was everywhere all at once. Her lips and tongue and teeth were feasting on her mouth and neck and collarbone as her hands clenched and gripped and caressed her face and neck and arms and sides.

Just above the sound of her own thumping heart and the pounding of her blood in her ears, she could just make out Rachel moaning enthusiastically as she covered Quinn with heated kisses.

_Oh my, God! _Quinn's eyes bulged as Rachel sat up and quickly yanked her shirt off her tanned body before throwing herself down upon Quinn yet again. She plunged her tongue passed Quinn's quivering lips as her hands roamed over the blonde's shaking body.

She felt paralyzed by Rachel's kisses. Her wide eyes were staring unseeing up at the ceiling as she was devoured.

"_Mmm, _Quinn, put your hands on me." Rachel groaned as she sucked on Quinn's neck and softly pulled the pale flesh with her teeth. Quinn swallowed thickly as her heated body fought to respond to Rachel's command. Her arms felt like lead as she heaved them off the couch and placed them on top of Rachel's shoulders.

"You taste _soo_ good, Quinn." Rachel purred into the blonde's ear before she grabbed Quinn's chin and crashed their lips together once again.

Quinn felt as though everything was happening extremely slowly. She fought to remind herself to speed up her actions so that she could return Rachel's frenzied pace. But when Rachel sucked on her tongue, Quinn suddenly snapped into play; reminders no longer needed.

Rachel knew that would do the trick. She smirked to herself until she felt Quinn's hands splay down her naked back and suddenly she was fighting for air. Rachel could not recall a time previously when she had ever felt quite so aroused. The triumph of landing the starring role in _A Sweetness _paired with Matt's movie was a conquest so huge it felt as though it was pouring out of her body.

The only outlet—the only outlet she desired—was to pour her insurmountable elation into Quinn Fabray and reap the equally, if not more, euphoric benefits that would come from it.

To Rachel, Quinn's beauty was never as great as it was at that moment she had learned she received the role. Touching her now felt so gratifying and right. The only thing Rachel could parlay it to was lending someone a book after you finished enjoying it. She needed to transform her happiness over to Quinn. It just so happened this _also _brought Rachel much happiness. Much indeed.

Quinn's strong hands kneaded and explored Rachel's naked back as both girls squirmed and slid against the other. Their moans loudly reverberated against the apartment walls and were accompanied by the slight squeaking of the couch springs. Rachel's groans grew in volume as she stuffed her hands underneath Quinn's shirt and lightly squeezed the blonde's sides. Quinn's stomach was hot and so soft that further exploration was needed.

The blonde's back arched off the couch as Rachel's hands slowly made their way higher. If there was an off button in this moment, Quinn couldn't recall why a purpose would be necessary. She was blissfully unaware of anything beside Rachel.

Until the doorbell rang.

The sounds of Rachel's fathers came from the other side of the door and the diva crashed her head down to the panting blonde's neck for only a moment before she suddenly remembered her New York début. In a world wind of excitement, Rachel jumped off the couch and stuffed on her shirt before she yanked open the door to tell her fathers the good news.

It took Quinn another full minute to realize Rachel was no longer on top of her.

After the prerequisite squealing of joy over Rachel's success, the party of four embarked on some light sightseeing. Quinn contributed when she could, but it was very difficult to get a word in around the three Berrys. Also because her mind was elsewhere.

Now that the initial realization that Rachel was about to start her career had faded, Quinn's head was assaulted with the awareness that she would have to tell the diva about Jesse. Whether she wanted to or not.

She was feeling a tad bit better about it, though. Rachel's hands had hardly ever left Quinn's throughout the day. She was constantly smiling at the blonde and complimenting her aplenty. But she knew the time was coming. She just hoped Rachel wouldn't take it too badly.

X

"What do you mean you already know?" Quinn asked. She was slightly thrown by Rachel's calm demeanor. "How do you know?"

"Stefan told me." Rachel said with a shrug. Quinn blinked back unsurely.

"When?"

"When he called." Again, all Quinn could do was blink. "How did _you _know?" Rachel asked as she cocked her head.

Quinn steeled herself and sighed. "I saw him at the audition."

"And you're only telling me now?" The question was curious, and for that Quinn was relieved. She had expected Rachel to be angry.

"I didn't want to upset you. If you didn't get the part there would have been no real reason to do so." Rachel nodded slowly as Quinn fidgeted.

"That's the only reason?" Quinn nodded but kept quiet. "But I could have run into him. I could have seen him on the streets or at a Starbucks-"

"You don't drink Starbucks."

"Well that's besides the point." Rachel said, gesturing slightly. It was the first real sign that the diva felt any kind of way over the situation.

"Rachel," Quinn said after a long sigh. "I didn't want to upset you needlessly. I also didn't want to take away from the experience of it all. And also I was-"

"Jealous." Rachel concluded with smirk. Quinn sucked on her teeth before she slowly returned the smile.

"Fine, yes. I was jealous. I don't want you to have to see him. I certainly don't want him seeing you." Rachel giggled as she got up from the kitchen table and moved about the room.

"That's all very cute, Quinn, but it doesn't change the fact that I will be seeing him."

"But at rehearsals you can avoid him." Quinn stated.

"No, I meant tonight." Quinn eyebrow shot up as she slowly turned to inspect Rachel.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, her tone verging on dangerous.

"I called Stefan to get Jesse's number. I thought it was best we spoke. It turns out he wants to meet with me." Blood thundered in Quinn's ears as she stood.

"Hell no." Rachel rolled her eyes and approached the blonde.

"Quinn, stop it. It's not a big deal. I don't even care that you didn't tell me about Jesse's note." The blonde stood ramrod straight as she looked at Rachel.

"How did you know about that?"

"Okay, so I knew that you saw Jesse at the audition. He told me when I called him."

"You've already talked to him!"

"Yes, Quinn. We spoke briefly this afternoon when you were out. It wasn't a long conversation, my fathers were still here, and I agreed to meet with him." Quinn's mind was on overdrive as she absorbed the information.

"This is ridiculous! He's a liar and a manipulator and he hurt you, Rachel!" Quinn was painfully aware of the irony in her statement.

"And we are now colleagues and a lot has changed since high school!" Rachel gestured at the space between them, indicating that their relationship was a prime example.

An hour later, not much had changed in their discussion. The only difference was that Rachel was dressed and ready to meet up with Jesse. Quinn was seeing red.

"I _know _that he's going to try and win you back-"

"There's no chance of that happening, Quinn."

"He's still going to try!"

"It won't matter." Rachel's calm tone was getting to the blonde. She now wanted a fight—she wasn't getting one. She changed techniques.

"After your audition he got into a small fight with Stefan. How much do you want to bet he didn't want you to get the part so you'd outshine him?"

"That is a very good possibility; I would feel the same way."

"Ugh!" Quinn growled, angry Rachel was being so blaze.

"How would you feel if Sam or Puck came into town and wanted to spend the night with me?"

"Perfectly fine about it. You're very gay and the thought of touching either one of them repulses you." Quinn growled again and gazed at Rachel's reflection in their bedroom mirror.

"He's going to try and manipulate you."

"Let him try." Rachel answered with a shrug as she finished putting on her makeup.

"You're putting far too much effort into your appearance for a guy you can't stand."

"It never hurts to remind an ex what they gave up."

Rachel brushed by Quinn, letting their bodies graze momentarily as she exited the room. Instantly, her body registered the sensation that was Quinn and a whole host of memories swam into focus at the contact. But she didn't get far. Quinn reached out and grasped Rachel's hand before pulling her back until they collided. "I forbid you to go." The air around them had intensified. It sparked and crackled and Rachel's heart started to race from being so close to Quinn. Her body still trembled against the blonde caused by the deep timber of Quinn's voice.

"You can't." Rachel whispered back, aware that Quinn's hand was on her hip as the other still held her wrist loosely. She peered up through her bangs to witness the swirling of dark, hazel eyes. It was almost as though fire were dancing in the irises.

"I can and I will." Quinn husked back, her hand slipping underneath the sweater Rachel was wearing and let her fingertips skate up the diva's spine. Rachel was sure that her pupils were fully-blown as she allowed herself to truly feel Quinn's hot touch on her skin. She felt her nipples harden as she pressed closer into Quinn, glancing up at her with her mouth parted, and her chest heaving.

"I'm still going." Rachel breathed out, her eyes fluttering closed and Quinn's other hand trailed up her arm to cup her cheek.

"He doesn't deserve your time." Quinn muttered, her breath washing over Rachel's face as she lowered her head excruciatingly slowly.

"That's not for you to decide." Rachel all but whimpered. Quinn's palm was drawing circles on the bare skin of her back underneath her sweater and each passing was more arousing than the next. Unconsciously, Rachel pushed even closer to Quinn until the blonde's back connected with the doorframe.

"He doesn't. He never did." Quinn licked her lips as she stared at Rachel's unguarded expression. The diva was panting hard, eyes still closed, and puffs of air tickled Quinn's cheeks as she gazed at her.

"I must do this. It's closure." Rachel whispered, every second feeling like infinity as she waited for Quinn mouth to meet hers.

"I want you here with me."

"I'll come home to you." Quinn shuddered at the meaning, both of them, and raked her nails down Rachel's back as she allowed their foreheads to touch.

"The wait will be unbearable." The blonde breathed as the back of her hand caressed Rachel's collarbone until she was cupping the diva's neck.

"You have nothing to worry about." Thoughts were becoming increasingly more difficult to call forth for Rachel. Her brain was a scrambled mess—unable to do much more than comprehend Quinn's touches and presence.

"I have everything to worry about. You're all I have." Rachel swallowed deeply at the admission. The profound statement nearly knocked the wind out of her.

"I can't be your everything." Although, Rachel wished it were true. She wanted to be Quinn's everything. She felt as though the blonde was her everything.

"Why not?" Quinn asked, her head tilting slightly until their lips brushed. "Tell me why you can't?" A sharp gasp slipped from Rachel as she struggled to remain standing. The intensity of their conversation mixed with the growing need forming between her legs and the press of their bodies was almost too much to bear.

"I…" Rachel wasn't sure what to say. She was saved from answering at all when Quinn's mouth took her top lip and hummed its contentment. She allowed the blonde to suck and enjoy for a blissfully long moment before Quinn pulled away. Their lips still touched and brushed as they panted back and forth.

"I can't stand thinking of him around you." Quinn admitted in a painful whimper, clinging to Rachel as though she would fade away at any second.

"It won't be for long." Rachel groaned back as Quinn's hand skirted around her hip until her thumb brushed the flat plane of Rachel's stomach. She was held captive in the blonde's embrace and she slowly swayed the more lightheaded she felt.

They were quiet as they stood pressed up against one another, Quinn stroking Rachel's stomach and cheek with her thumbs as she soaked in the tantalizing scent of the diva. The feel of Rachel's soft skin and hard nipples against her own was clouding Quinn's mind until she was aware of the growing moisture in her panties. Her clit was pulsating so strongly the thrumming coincided with the pounding of her heart. Finally, Quinn's eyes snapped opened as she pulled herself away from Rachel. She ran a shaking hand through her hair as she tried to collect her bearings. "Just…just hurry home."

Rachel's eyes fluttered open as she registered Quinn's absence. Her body felt extremely cold all except for the burning pressure between her thighs and the tight, coiled mess in her stomach. "I-yes. I won't be late." Rachel breathed out. She could sense Quinn's distance and quickly encased the blonde's hand in her own before she pulled them away from the doorway.

"I'll be home soon." Rachel said, hoping to catch Quinn's wondering eyes. "Hey," She mumbled, yanking on Quinn's hand loosely to get her attention. "I'll be home soon." She said again once the blonde was looking at her.

Quinn swallowed and nodded. The intensity from moments ago still loomed over them. "Call my fathers if you get bored." Rachel said with a smile as she swung their connected arms back and forth. Quinn managed a small grin that flicked before it went out. She hated this feeling. She hated that Jesse would have his eyes on Rachel. Get to spend time with her when he didn't deserve it. She was scared he would hurt her—rehash the past. Bring up painful memories like Shelby or his betrayal. But most of all, she was petrified she'd lose Rachel.

"I love you." Rachel breathed out before she cupped Quinn's pale cheek and pressed her full lips to Quinn's. It was a sentence the blonde had heard many times before. But at that moment, she felt the gravity behind the words she had never quite caught before. A pang hit her chest and she nearly sobbed at its meaning.

But before she could dwell too thoroughly over it, Rachel was slowly pulling back and opening the door. "I'll see you soon." Quinn folded her arms against her chest and watched as Rachel walked backwards towards the elevator. She blindly pushed the down button with her gaze still on Quinn.

Rachel forced herself to smile widely and wave in a playful attempt to disrupt the mood. Quinn chuckled and smiled back, returning the obligatory kisses from afar as the lift's doors opened and finally shut.

Quinn Fabray's parting smile was stuck in place long after Rachel's elevator descended. Her fingers lightly drummed on the doorframe as the smile started to slide into a frown and her jaw clenched. "Calm down, Fabray, she loves you, this isn't a big deal." The blonde muttered through her teeth, her body still tense. The blonde was only slightly aware that the words came out in a jumble of manic anxiety.

Slowly, Quinn turned and closed the door over and stood in the middle of the quiet apartment. She bit her lip as different scenarios swam in her mind over Rachel's evening. When she finally got the visional of Rachel and Jesse passionately embracing after a perfect duet of showtune classics to an applauding audience, the blonde practically sprinted to her cell phone and hurriedly dialed as she tapped her foot and shifted her weight. "Come on, come on, answer!"

"_Hello?" _Lydia's lazy voice echoed over the phone line and Quinn nearly cheered.

"Lydia! I need you to hang out with me tonight!" The silence stretched on as Quinn raced to her bedroom and began quickly changing into something suitable to go out in.

"_I can't. _Jersey Shore _marathon_." Came the bored reply.

"I'll pay you!" Quinn shrieked as she stood in front of the mirror and hastily applied make up.

"_Who is this_?" Lydia asked in a suspicious tone. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"It's Quinn!"

"_Who?_"

"Quinn _Fabray. _Your boss!"

"_Ooooh, yeah. Yeah, sorry, no._ Jersey Shore _is on_."

"I'll pay you _and _I'll buy your drinks!" Quinn huffed back. There was another long pause.

"_Can my boyfriend come_?" Quinn took a deep, steady breath.

"Fine, whatever."

"_And you'll pay for him too_?"

"Sure! Fine! Just meet me. Let me give you the address."

X

Quinn ended up waiting forty-five minutes until Lydia and her boyfriend meandered into the bar as though they were lost. The blonde had consumed two Long Island iced teas in that time and put up with the bartender's flirting only to distract herself from the myriad of images that swarmed her in regards to whatever Rachel and Jesse were up to.

"Finally!" Quinn huffed as she removed her coat from the bar stool beside her to make room for Lydia. "What took you so long?"

"I had to find a tape so I could record _Jersey Shore_." Lydia deadpanned after she had ordered a row of shots for her and her boyfriend.

"A tape? Never mind. Hi, I'm Quinn." She greeted the scruffy boy beside her employee.

"Jeremy." He nodded back. He was a token stoner. Right down to his long, drawn out introduction. The blonde twisted her lips uncomfortably as the trio sat in silence.

"So thanks for coming."

"Yeah. We should get some wings." Lydia said, all but ignoring Quinn's appreciation.

Several hours, a basket of kamikaze wings, a dozen shots, and another Long Island iced tea later, and the ice had officially been broken.

"You don't know Jesse St. James, Lydia." Quinn said with a nod and narrowed eyes. The three of them were stuffed in a booth in the back of the loud bar with Lydia and Jeremy staring blankly across the table towards the blonde. "He'll manipulate her! She'll leave me, I just _know _it!"

"But you don't even really like her." Lydia said as she licked and sucked the residual hot wing sauce off her fingers.

"What? Who told you that? Of course I do!"

"Dude, you told us about your lie, like, a few shots ago." Jeremy commented as he bobbed his head. "She said that, right?" He asked Lydia.

"Yeah." Lydia confirmed.

"I did? Shit, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that!" Quinn mumbled, her eyes wide at her realization. "You can't tell anyone!" She bore down on the disinterested couple.

"Whatever. So, like, if your girl's going to be famous, do you think she could get me Christopher Walken's autograph. I love his shit." Jeremy asked with a sloppy grin. Quinn peeked out between the hands covering her face in awe. She couldn't remember telling them the truth about her and Rachel's relationship—she knew she had to be _very _drunk.

"Sure." Quinn replied, still distracted.

"Awesome." Jeremy smiled down at Lydia as he squeezed her shoulder with his hand. "Dwayne is gonna be so jealous." He chuckled. Quinn wasn't really paying attention, though. Suddenly it was very important to her to explain herself.

"Just because I lied in the beginning though, doesn't mean that I'm…lying now." She hiccupped as she leaned across the table towards the pair. "Yeah, so maybe sometimes Rachel can still be a bit grating…but…I don't _entirely _mind."

The couple only nodded, their eyes on Quinn. "I mean…it can be cute. _Really _cute…sometimes. And…now that we're spending more time together, I can admit that she's almost…likable. You know?"

"Lickable." Jeremy grinned.

"Yeah. Wait, no. I said _likeable_." Quinn clarified through her haze.

"Yeah, that too."

"And she's really talented. The kind of talented that makes it difficult not to at least respect her!"

"Like Walken."

"And ever since Finn dumped her she's been easier to deal with; not so selfish."

"Finn did a real number on her. He sounds like a grade A douche. She's better to be shot of him." Jeremy nodded before he sucked on the straw from his drink.

"God! Even Jeremy can tell he's an idiot! I can't believe he had the balls to dump her. What is his problem?" Quinn lamented, running her fingers through her hair.

"Guys like Finn and Jesse are just too caught up in their own selves, Quinn." Jeremy added. "Rachel needs someone who can give her more."

"That's what I'm trying to do!"

"Yeah. And so what if you're using her. You've got her best interest at heart."

"I do! I want to take care of her."

"And hey, sure, you don't think she's hot, big deal." Jeremy said as he dipped his French fries into some mayo.

"Well she's kind of hot."

"That's something." He said with a happy shrug. "You can force yourself to kiss her every once and a while."

"I actually like kissing her a lot." Quinn mumbled, suddenly noticing how warm the bar had gotten.

"Kudos, then. It's all relative, I say. Live and let live. Have some fun, screw around on the side or whatever."

"Oh, no. I'd never do that to Rachel. No." Quinn shook her head emphatically but stopped when she felt dizzy. "Rachel deserves better than that. And besides, I'm not interested in anyone else."

"Anyone _else_?" Lydia spoke up, her eyebrow raised. "You sound like you're into this girl." Quinn chuckled and leaned back in the booth.

"I'm not interested in Rachel Berry." Quinn continued chuckling as she extended her arms across the length of the back of the booth. She looked around the bar for a second before she realized that her company was now silent. As she glanced back at them, Jeremy and Lydia were staring at her skeptically. "What? I'm not interested in Rachel."

"But it sounds like you are." Jeremy said with a small smile.

"I'm not."

"But it _sounds_ like you are."

"I'm _not._"

"But it sounds like you _are_."

"_I'm. Not!" _

"But it-"

"I'm _not! _Now drop it!" She seethed. Jeremy drew quiet and picked at his fries.

"But it sounds like you are." He mumbled, his eyes still downcast.

"Ugh!" Quinn huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she shook her head. "Okay, so I'll admit that she's not impossible to be around, okay? And sure, kissing her is…fun, or whatever. And _maybe, _and that's a _slight_ maybe, sometimes I think about…_more _than just kissing. And I'll confess that I'm happy when I'm with her or whatever. And when she's happy I am. And doing things for her can be fun. Sure, I enjoy making a home with Rachel. And the idea of planning a future sounds kind of exciting and OH MY GOD I LIKE RACHEL BERRY!"

"See" Jeremy said with a grin and knowing nod. "It sounds like you _are_." Quinn could only tug on her long blonde hair and stare wide-eyed back over her sudden understanding.

_You're drunk, that's it, you're just drunk and not thinking clearly! _

_But what if you are? _

_Oh shut _up_! _

X

_Several hours ago…_

Across town, Rachel paid her cab driver and hesitantly approached the pretentious restaurant that Jesse had picked out. She had severe misgivings about their rendezvous and wished greatly that Quinn was there to take her hand. She always felt more confident with the blonde at her side. Quinn had a way of entering a room as though she was preparing for battle. Rachel admired that about her and stalled at the restaurant's entrance momentarily to summon some of that strength.

She would be playing a role. One that she had rehearsed on the way over in the cab. Rachel would need to forestall whatever Jesse had planned and get to the point of their meeting right away. The diva would use Quinn's strength to convince Jesse that there was ultimately no reason for their meeting. She would say what she wanted to say, and return home to Quinn. She couldn't allow Jesse to think he could sweet-talk her.

_You can do this, Rachel. Just remember what you've practiced and what Quinn said. _

_We should have stayed home with Quinn. I think with a little more persuasion we could have advanced our physical intimacy. _

_Rachel Berry! Keep your game-face on! _

_Oh! Yes, I apologize. _

…_I think you're right though; we nearly had her. _

_That was exquisite torture!_

_Maybe if we cut our meeting with Jesse short…_

_It's unnerving how much self control that woman has! _

_And when her gorgeous hazel eyes have swirls of green…I nearly die! _

_It almost compares to the fire that looms in her irises when jealous. _That _look is always my undoing! _

_Goodness, just thinking about how forceful she spoke…when she forbade me…_

_We're getting goose bumps just thinking about it! _

_Our panties are getting uncomfortable…_

_Yes! We must stay on-track. We can't think of Quinn. _

_Or how sexy she looks when she's jealous. _

_That _was _rather wise to antagonize her…_

_Sheer brilliance! _

"Ma'am, are you going to step inside or can I close the door?" Rachel shook her head and looked up at the doorman.

"Oh, yes, sorry, my good sir. I was…daydreaming."

"Uh huh. So I saw." Rachel smiled nervously at the old man and went to step through the opened doorway.

"Ah, miss?" Rachel smiled brightly at him and waited for him to continue. "You have a little…" He trailed off as he motioned to her mouth. In horror, Rachel swiped her lips with the back of her hand and blushed hotly when she discovered a bit of drool.

"Um…thank you." She mumbled before she hurried into the restaurant.

It was just as she pictured it would be. The rich cherry oak wood made up the bar and all of the tables around the room. Yuppie businessmen and their bottled blondes covered the space in an annoying fashion that had Rachel weary. One tour around the room with her eyes told her that this was not a place she would have likely chosen for herself and she was slightly surprised Jesse would pick it. _And where is Mr. St. James? _Rachel asked herself, searching carefully amiss the dim.

"Ah." She sighed, spotting him at the bar. He was slightly leaning over it to speak with the bartender; another bottled blonde. "I sincerely suspect Quinn is the only natural blonde there is…or should be." Rachel muttered as she made her way through the crowd.

As she approached, Jesse turned as if he felt her presence and he smirked. _I detest that smirk. _She watched as he took her in, starting with her bare legs and traveled up to her form-fitting sweater. In all honesty, Rachel really had wanted to wear a down jacket for her meeting with Jesse. But she rather preferred making Quinn jealous and chose the more complimentary outfit instead. She was regretting her decision.

Jesse, however, looked perfectly at ease in his crisp white button-down that he paired with perfectly pressed dress pants with the matching black blazer. He looked exactly the same since Rachel had last seen him; still boy-ish yet sophisticated.

As drew nearer, Jesse leaned over the bar and quickly ordered two drinks from the bartender before turning back to smile.

"Rachel Berry, may I just say that you look absolutely-" Rachel held out her hand to stall the boy and ducked away from his outstretched arms. She was going to have to put an end to this right away.

"I'm going to stop you right there, Jesse St. James." The boy only looked amused and swept his hand to show she could continue; smirking as he handed the bartender a tip before sipping on his draft beer. Rachel squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, focusing on what she wanted to say. Jesse leaned against the bar, crossing one leg over the other at the ankle, as he casually sipped his beer.

"While I must admit that I adore hearing flattery and am usually partial to allowing those speaking to finish their thoughts, in this case it is unnecessary. I am here for only three reasons: one, gross curiosity. I've always been inquisitive and cannot help but wonder why exactly you felt the need to meet with me. I can only assume it is to apologize for past behavior so that we can work together in civility. This brings me to the second reason I'd agreed to meet with you. Although I've long since been over your harsh treatment in high school, I can't help but want some vindication, even if I'm not really expecting it-" Jesse chuckled. It only infuriated Rachel more.

"Rachel, I-"

"You will get your chance to explain, Jesse. Until then, _I _will be the one speak." Jesse nodded again, still looking smug, however. "As I was saying, I do not expect an apology despite the fact I feel as though I am deserved one. But the last, and rather most important reason I'm here, is to make you understand that you lost me so long ago that whatever flattery, apologies, or promises you hope to make will not cause the slightest difference."

While Jesse's smirk diminished slightly, he still believed that it was highly unlikely. "While I did care for you at one point in time, I must admit that most of my affections stemmed from my hurt over Finn's dismissal. True, you were definitely crush-worthy during my tenure at McKinley, however, that ship as long since sailed."

That hurt the boy slightly. But he was still convinced he could make Rachel fall for him yet again. Well…until he heard the next part.

"I'm" Rachel took a deep breath as the smile started to take on a life of its own. "I'm in love. I'm in love with a woman that challenges me and comforts me in a way I never even knew was possible. Thank you." Rachel addressed the bartender as the blonde reached over to hand her a small glass with pick liquid inside. She smiled warmly at her before turning right back to Jesse.

"She has the unfathomable ability to make me feel venerable all while giving me strength. Quinn is my betrothed and no one, absolutely no one, has ever given me what she does. I look at you and I do not see a man who broke my heart. Instead I only see a boy who is missing out on their soul mate and I feel sad for you. I apologize if I may have led you on by agreeing to meet. But as I mentioned, curiosity won out. And also…Quinn seemed rather jealous about me attending this evening and I thoroughly enjoy her possessive nature."

The bartender chuckled and winked at Rachel before she turned away to serve another customer and the diva kind of liked her a little more because of it. Even if she was a bottled blonde. Jesse blinked slowly. It was the only indication that he wasn't, in fact, made of stone. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he knew that Rachel had finally stopped talking and that it was his turn to say something. But his memorized script that included footnotes and hand-written comments in the margins over what he wanted to say in order to woo Rachel Berry had been completely erased from his mind.

Whoever the woman was before him now, lightly sucking on the straw protruding from her fruity cocktail, was _not _his Rachel Berry. Instead, a strong, confident, and completely different woman took her place.

"This is the part where you start explaining." She whispered to him from behind her glass. Jesse cleared his throat and raised himself to his full height before he turned back towards the bar; ignoring the amused glances he was still receiving from the bartender. He was surprised that his hands were slightly shaking and he carefully grasped his pint glass and took a sip before placing it down gently on the counter.

"So it's true.? What George said? You and Quinn Fabray are together?" Obviously it was true. Jesse had been amused and only slightly shocked when George had described the kiss he had witnessed in the back of the theatre. But Jesse only assumed that Rachel was trying to get back at him. Or save face. He never expected it to be real. Although, seeing Quinn at the audition had thrown him. The girl, frankly, was terrifying. She embodied every single popular girl he had crushed on during his freshman year at Carmel who wouldn't look twice at him those days; when he had been a nobody. She was virtually unflappable then, even pregnant, and if Quinn was comfortable with herself now, she probably _was_ unflappable.

"I assure you, Jesse, my affections for Quinn and hers for me are _very _real. We got together not long after graduation and have been living with one another ever since." This, was _not_ good news. Jesse glanced down at Rachel's ring finger and seized on the lack of jewelry.

"I believe someone forgot the memo that placing a ring on a woman's finger is the first sign that one is _truly _serious." Jesse smirked, happy that he so easily found a weakness. This was the moment where Rachel would hem and haul and make excuses that only displayed her insecurities.

"I don't feel that's an accurate analysis. _Asking _is the first sign that someone is serious. Living with them day in and day out for a year and a half further proves that. Waking up in their arms every morning and going about your day with one another, planning for a future, small details like sharing meals, small talk, long conversations in bed that last hours, passion that never seems to be extinguished yet only is enhanced—all of _those_ are signs that someone is _truly _serious."

Again, all Jesse could do was blink. This wasn't exactly going his way. He decided to change it up a bit. "Your audition was fabulous. You should be quite pleased with yourself. Although your choice of song and monologue were almost your downfall, I'm pleased to see Stefan overlooked those details." Backhanded compliments were his specialty. Quinn might have had Rachel brainwashed, but he knew the business, and Rachel would want to align herself with that.

"Funny. Stefan admitted to me over the phone that _Foolish Games _is one of his favorite songs and that his headache was all but eliminated by my fresh take on _To Kill a Mockingbird. _I find Quinn's theory on your motives for meeting with me very interesting. At first, I thought she was just being jealous or paranoid. But she told me that after my audition you had words with Stefan and almost stormed out. I think my fiancé is even more intuitive than I originally thought."

"Oh really? And what _did _Quinn have to say?" Jesse all but growled. Rachel shrugged and sipped on her drink as the boy waited. If she said what Jesse was almost sure she was about to say, his attempt to woo Rachel would be smoke in the wind.

"Just that you were not pleased to see me. You did not want me casted and tried to talk Stefan out of it. Quinn thinks you're worried I'll take the spotlight off of you. And she's right. Although your voice and talent far outshine other male leads, you will never have my range or heart. Well…that's what Quinn says, anyway." She was back to happily sipping on her drink as Jesse's jaw clenched and he fought off his anger and humiliation.

But suddenly, the self-satisfied demeanor all but left Rachel. She softly placed her drink down on top of the bar and heaved a great sigh. "Look, Jesse," She began, biting her lip as she glanced around the restaurant before turning back to the boy. "In only a short time we shall be working together." Rachel's only relief over the news was that Jesse was playing the other starring role of Theo, her brother. _Not _the small part of Martin who would be her love interest. "Our on-stage presence must show that of two happy people, _family, _who depend and rely on one another. I can only assume by your current attitude that you are not pleased with how this evening turned out. Why don't we skip the lying and manipulating, and you just explain to me why you attempted to sabotage my audition. And furthermore, why you were going to attempt to rehash our high school fling?"

At first, Jesse fully intended on scoffing and removing himself from the situation. _This _Rachel Berry was unnerving. Her confidence was untouchable. She was so sure of herself that it actually made Jesse feel lacking. But instead, he collapsed onto a bar stool and gulped at his beer. He did not meet Rachel's eye and remained quiet as he looked around the noisy restaurant.

Rachel felt the desire to roll her eyes. Petulant Jesse was almost as bad as smug Jesse. The diva gave another sigh and sipped her drink before a thought occurred. Here was a boy that she had shared many good times with. Although he had hurt her in the end, they had gotten along well enough during their courtship and shared many passionate discussions concerning their likes and dislikes and futures. Maturity made her realize why Jesse had acted how he had in high school, and Rachel really was over it. So instead of forcing a conversation out of him, she decided to tread on familiar ground. "I feel as though Dean will make an abysmal Martin. I'm not entirely sure what Stefan had been thinking."

And that was all it took. Soon, the pair was catching up on the years apart and discussing _A Sweetness _and other shows. They compared notes on auditions, Broadway classics, revivals, the newest darlings, and so on and so forth. In under an hour they were laughing and joking in a way that suited them both quite well. Jesse quickly remembered why he started liking Rachel to begin with back then—they were so much a like—and Rachel recalled the same.

Not long after last call, Jesse leaned over and waved the girl closer, a look of drunken concentration on his face. "I was scared to see you." He admitted with a slur. "I haven't had much luck so far getting roles." Rachel nodded in understanding.

"Quinn is a wise woman." Rachel mumbled, more to herself.

"Do you even know how I got the part of Theo? Hmm? Do you Rachel, _do _you?" Rachel shook her head, her eyes wide.

"My girlfriend is the producer." He whispered, after looking around the emptying restaurant several times to make sure no one could overhear their discussion. At his admission, Rachel gasped loudly and slapped her hand over her mouth in astonishment.

"Jesse St. James! Martha Steinwing is a forty-three year old woman! And she's _married!" _Jesse's grin was lopsided and she giggled at the sight. Suddenly, her giggles turned to laughter and the boy joined in.

"I've always liked older women." Suddenly his face cleared and he stared at Rachel hard. "I had such a crush on your mom!"

"Ew! Jesse!" But they both were back to laughing even if they weren't entirely sure why they were doing so.

"I took Martha as a lover almost three months ago hoping she'd get me roles." He confessed in earnest. "But I think I kind of love her now!" He declared as he threw up his hands.

Rachel's laughter shook her whole body as she covered her reddening face. Somehow, hearing that Jesse St. James was sleeping with an older woman was quite fitting. After their laughter turned to sporadic chuckling, Rachel smiled softly and looked over at him.

"I'm glad I came tonight." He smiled back fondly and nodded.

"I was an ass to you."

"Yes you were, Jesse St. James."

"I'm sorry about that." She shrugged and crunched on the ice that was half melted in her almost empty glass. "And I'm sorry I tried to sabotage your audition. And…you know, for attempting to seduce you in hopes that once I dumped you you'd be too heartbroken to perform and Stephan would fire you."

"It's water over the bridge." Rachel dismissed with wave of her hand.

Jesse took a deep breath and rubbed his stomach as he looked around the deserted restaurant. "This was fun." He said emphatically. Rachel bobbed her head.

"We should do this more often. Perhaps you and your mother-I mean, your _girlfriend_ would like to come over for dinner one night." Rachel said with a thinly veiled snort.

"Ha ha. Very funny, Berry. But I'm sure you and your Ice Queen have better things to do."

"Please do not insult my fiancé, Jesse; she has thawed out considerably since high school. At least with me." Rachel mumbled from around her glass.

"She scares me." He admitted with a shiver, getting Rachel to beam.

"I indeed love how intimidating she is. It's very sexy."

"I actually don't want to hear things like that."

"She has the most gifted tongue, too." Rachel muttered, not paying attention to the boy beside her.

"I'm feeling nauseated." Suddenly, Rachel's eyes widened and she spun on her bar stool to look at Jesse with a grin.

"Do you know what you can do? Oh, this is such a brilliant idea!" Rachel gushed as she clapped her hands together excitedly. Jesse didn't seem to notice, and instead, was narrowing his eyes at his cell phone, trying to read the text that he had just received.

"I think it's almost closing time." He mumbled, thoroughly confused as to where the time went.

"Jesse! You _must _pay attention!"

"I wonder if Martha will be free this evening."

"Jesse!" Rachel snapped her fingers in front of the boys face before she grasped his shoulders with her hands and shook them slightly. "Do you know what would be a perfect way to apologize for your repeated mistreatment towards me?"

"I can pick up the tab?" He asked with confusion as he rubbed his face. "Although technically Martha will be paying since she gave me this credit card." Jesse said as he held the _American Express_ card between his thumb and pointer finger.

"No! You can help me make Quinn jealous!" Jesse's face scrunched up in confusion before he smiled smugly.

"Should we make Quinn jealous in the bathroom or in the cab ride back to my place?" Rachel rolled her eyes and slapped his shoulder.

"No, no, no. Here's what you're going to do…"

X

Quinn had slipped out of bed quietly as she let Rachel sleep. Her dreams had awoken her and her eyes had only been open for a moment before she was on her feet.

She had remembered everything from the night before. She recalled her own realization of her feelings and the enormous relief she had felt when she stumbled into the apartment and found Rachel asleep in their bed.

But Quinn pushed that all aside for now. She would go back and inspect each feeling one by one until things started making sense. Until then, she had a job to do. It hadn't even occurred to her before this moment, but it was something that was necessary. She wouldn't listen to the butterflies flapping away or the doubt that sometimes crept in. Quinn would only listen to what was expected of her. And _this_ was expected.

"Hey, Lydia? Can you and Jeremy meet me?" Quinn listened to the girl's half asleep mumblings. "Yes! I'll pay you both!" She disconnected after giving Lydia the address and quickly got into the shower.

Twenty minutes later Quinn was biting her lip as she stood outside the jewelry store. Lydia and Jeremy were late, just as the blonde knew they would be, but she didn't want to go in without them.

She needed the support. Neither Lydia nor Jeremy was exactly what she had in mind, but they were something. And what she was about to do was huge. In a blink of an eye, her savings would be gone. Her independence forgotten. She was about to tie herself to Rachel Berry fully. Quinn was pretty sure sometime soon—annny minute now—she would start to feel nervous.

_Thank you for reading and reviewing. There is still more to come with Rachel's fathers, Jesse, and Matt and the movie. I hope you enjoyed. _


	6. Chapter 6 Forgetting Jesse St James

_Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed Question of Fact. It was a lot of fun to write. And thank you for continually reading this story and reviewing. I appreciate your patience and I hope you enjoy. _

Chapter Six: Forgetting Jesse St. James

A chilly gust of wind swept through the bedroom curtains and brought with it the sounds of honking horns and bus doors opening from the street; waking Rachel from the depths of the most smoking-hot sex dream she thought she ever had or could have. "Oh sweet Jesus." The diva exhaled with a shaky moan as she rolled over onto her stomach in bed; her dark brown hair curtaining around her pillow as she buried her face. On Quinn's side was a simple note from the blonde informing Rachel that she had to run out for a dog walk and she'd be back soon, signed _xo Q. _

Rachel couldn't even remember collapsing into bed the previous evening (or more accurately, earlier that morning) and was aware that her skin was still caked with makeup. "Oh, that's disgusting." Rachel sighed and sat up as she rubbed her face.

The night had gone a lot better than expected and Rachel found that Jesse wasn't so bad. They had a lot in common and it was nice having someone else in her life from her past. And she had another friend. _Well, sort of_, Rachel admitted begrudgingly as she weighed the pros and cons of having Jesse St. James as a friend. She could just barely remember their last conversation that evening; the plan.

Well…it wasn't so much a plan, per se; usually plans have steps. This plan only had one. It was simple really, and something she couldn't come right out and actually _say _to Jesse. She wanted to make Quinn jealous so the blonde would open up a bit more. Express herself. Rachel wanted, no needed, Quinn to let go of whatever she was clinging to. She wanted the Quinn from that night before graduation in her bedroom. She wanted the Quinn from that night out with her friends on the dance floor and later in their bed. She wanted Quinn's restraint to crack and break until she lost control. And if the blonde was naked while losing control?…so much the better for Rachel Berry.

But it wasn't about sex…not completely at any rate. Quinn expressed in a myriad of different ways that she cared for Rachel. She just hoped that the passion that lurked behind hazel eyes would show itself. She had heard the high school tales of Quinn Fabray in all her praying and pushing-hands-away glory. Rachel was deeply grateful that the pair didn't have to kiss under the watchful eye of a brightly painted Jesus portrait. But that didn't mean that Quinn was free. She was holding back and the diva could tell. It was a barrier between them and Rachel didn't like it. Because when it came to Quinn Fabray, Rachel Berry was no holds barred obsessed. She would look upon the blonde as though she yawned new mornings and sneezed happiness. In Rachel's opinion, Quinn was the bees' knees. And she wanted some of that.

"Shower. Coooold shower." Rachel mumbled as she slid out of the covers and limped towards the bathroom; it is difficult to walk when the space between your thighs is pounding like an African tribal drum beat. The diva supposed that's what you get for going twenty months without having sex. _Twenty months? My sex life isn't a toddler! I've gone a year and eight months without intercourse. You know what…twenty months sounds less pathetic. Or maybe it all just sounds pathetic! _

Leaning against the tiles and bowing her head into the spray as she sighed, Rachel recalled the vivid details of her dream. Long, blonde hair tickling her stomach. Pale hands ghosting across her skin. Whispered words that made her groan in arousal. Bodies sliding to meet fingers as mouths consumed need. "I'm going to need another shower." Rachel whimpered as she twisted the knob to eliminate the hot water completely.

As she air-dried in only a towel in the bedroom, she smiled at the different picture of she and Quinn that littered the walls, dresser, and end tables. Most of them were taken from inside the apartment: Quinn sticking out her tongue as Rachel laughed beside her on the couch; the blonde looking none-too-pleased as she stirred something in a mixing bowl in the kitchen as Rachel sat on top of the counter leaning over her, beaming; Rachel shrieking as five dogs surrounded her, tangled in their leashes as Quinn roared with laughter; and a simple shot of both girls smiling softly as they sat on a bench in Central Park. Each picture was taken by either Quinn or Rachel's extended arm. Almost as though only the pair existed. For so long it _had_ only been Quinn and Rachel. And although the diva liked having friends now, she kind of missed the days when it was the two of them against the world. Or something a tad less dramatic.

Rachel traced the blonde's face with her fingertip in the last picture. She could maybe recall a dozen times she had seen Quinn _really _smile in high school. It made the diva feel a sense of accomplishment that Quinn smiled all the time now. Real smiles. Amused grins. Knowing smirks. Playful beams. She had seen them all.

_I missed you_.

Rachel recalled the words and licked her lips as she remembered how they had been whispered against her ear earlier that morning while she was still half asleep. She felt the blonde's fingers brush against her skin and caress her cheek with soft lips before burying her body closer to the diva's. The memory felt more like a dream but Rachel knew that it had happened. But only because moments later Quinn was muttering something about too many Jager shots and kamikaze hot wings before promptly snoring against Rachel's neck. Somehow that only made the memory better. Because it was real. What they shared was real. It was hectic and expensive and busy and filled with confusion and too many Jager shots and old boyfriends who schemed, but it was real. And Rachel couldn't imagine anything better than that.

She had wished that Quinn had been home once her evening with Jesse had ended. Rachel had gotten a tad too intoxicated and let time slip by. The blonde hadn't responded to any of her text messages she had sent while at the bar—Quinn left her cell at home to avoid the temptation of texting Rachel every minute—so the diva just assumed Quinn had fallen asleep. But once Rachel had gotten home and drunkenly clutched Quinn's note in her hand explaining she was out with Lydia and her boy friend, Rachel wanted to cry.

Although she had fun with Jesse, she had missed her blonde. She was happy that Quinn was out—although she wasn't too keen on the idea that it was with the likes of Lydia—and knew that Quinn needed to make friends. She just wanted Quinn there. With her. Getting cozy in their bed.

Rachel jumped slightly when her cell phone rang and she ignored her racing heart to leap over her bed to retrieve it, hoping it was Quinn. She's more than a little bummed out to see that it was Jen calling but she happily picked up. "Hello, Jennifer!"

"_Hey, Rach! I feel like I haven't talked to you in forever. What's been going on? Anything new? Anything I should know about? Anything like STARRING IN AN OFF-BROADWAY SHOW YOU INSANELY TALENTED DIVA, YOU!" _Rachel laughed as she held the phone away from her ear. She hadn't called Jen or any of her Julliard friends with the news of the play and movie because she didn't want it to seem as though she was rubbing it in their faces—something Quinn had taught her to do. It didn't mean she wasn't _dying _to tell them, however.

"How did you even hear about that?" Rachel asked, still giggling.

"Oh, news travels fast." Jen avoided carefully. "You better start explaining!" After a quick recap on everything _A Sweetness _and _A Date a Month_—tentative title—related and Rachel inquiring about Jen's life—something Quinn had taught her to do—the pair made plans to meet up later in the week to catch up properly. Classes would end for the semester in a few days time but often they wouldn't be able to talk amidst their higher leaning, so that's why they decided to get together for coffee.

Rachel was just disconnecting from her phone call with Jen when the front door opened and the diva bounded from the bedroom to go see her blonde. "Hey, you." The diva smiled shyly.

It had been an interesting morning for Quinn. The decision to buy Rachel a ring had come from a dream. A very _intense _dream. What Quinn remembers from it—the part she _willingly _remembers, at any rate—was Rachel's hand on Quinn's…um…on Quinn's…on _Quinn_, and the diva had been wearing an engagement ring. The _only _reason why the blonde was dead-set on purchasing the ring was because she wanted to make Rachel hap…no, because of Jesse St. James. _Because of Jesse St. James, damn it! He needs to learn his place! _

That was her reason and she was sticking to it. And also because a Stepford Wife does what is expected and now that she had the means to purchase a diamond ring, it only made sense to do so.

"So how are you going to _pop_ the question?" Jeremy asked as the trio sat in the jewelry store, waiting on the sales woman to finish up the paperwork. As expected, the woman was slightly wide-eyed when Quinn handed over the wade of cash for the payment. Not a _down_ payment. The _complete_ payment. Quinn was pretty sure the jeweler was calling the cops and that's why she was taking so long. But the blonde had a receipt from her bank, it was all legit, and she had no problem waiting. She was petrified to go home.

"I don't know." Quinn mumbled back. She was trying not to think about it right then. Rachel's fathers would be in town for a little while longer—at least through Chanukah and Rachel's birthday—and Quinn knew that it would mean the world to the three Berrys if Quinn proposed (again…ish?) while they were still in New York. But Quinn didn't really want to think about the specifics yet. She was still wondering when anxiety would hit and it was unsettling that it hadn't. No nerves. No buyer's remorse. No sudden trapped feeling. Nothing. It was puzzling. But she wanted to keep it that way, so she just decided to take everything one step at a time. Step one: actually having the ring in her hand.

"Didn't you say that Rachel tells everyone that you sang to her in your apartment with the whole place decorated?" Quinn cleared her throat and nodded, tearing her eyes off the older woman handling her paperwork. _What is taking her so long? _

"So why don't you just do that?" He asked as he held the jeweler's loupe to his eye. Quinn sighed and ran her hand through her hair as Jeremy zoomed closer to a bored Lydia's face before backing away and doing it all over again.

"Because. It's only romantic if I come up with it myself." Quinn answered dryly as she thought of all those birthdays and Valentine's Days she planned herself while she dated Finn and Sam. No matter how grand, they always missed the mark because she thought and executed everything for them.

"Okay, everything checks out." The jeweler said as she took the seat across from the trio and seized the loupe from Jeremy.

"Great. Anything else?" She was ready to get out of the jewelry store; they had been there for over three hours. Things were actually going quickly because Quinn was making the whole payment and in cash, but the woman needed to do some scrambling to meet all of Quinn's requirements. She was, after all, designing the ring herself.

"Nope. It's all ready to go. Size five, perfectly buffed and sparkly, with all of your specifications." The jeweler said with a smile. Quinn released a breath as she watched the woman carefully place the diamond ring into its light blue velvet box and hand it over to the blonde.

It was perfect. It was beautiful. It was Tiffany's.

"And just so you know, Ms. Fabray, the matching wedding band is here when you two are ready for it." Quinn's smile was frozen as she looked up at the older woman.

"Uh huh." Quinn released, nodding her head with the frozen smile still tacked on.

_Wedding bands? _

_Yes, Quinn. Wedding bands. The bands one wears when they get married. _

_Married? _

_Yes, Quinn. Married. The thing people do after they get engaged. _

_Engaged?_

_Okay, you can stop now. Just breathe. Breathe. That's it, you're doing great. One step at a time. Close your mouth. Good girl. Stopping smiling like that. Excellent. You don't have to keep nodding your head either. Wonderful. Look at you, you're doing great! _

"You'll have to excuse her; I think she just realized exactly what she did." Lydia said as she rose from her chair and pulled Quinn along. The jeweler only chuckled.

"Yeah, we get that a lot." Soon, Jeremy and Lydia were directing Quinn out of the store, both of them on either side of the still-stunned blonde until they arrived at a small coffee shop.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Lydia asked as she sipped on her black coffee. The question shook Quinn out of her stupor and she looked up to realize that they were no longer in the jewelry store. _Three hundred dollars saved a week for a year and a half gone in a matter of minutes…_

"Um…yeah. I'm sure." Quinn mumbled before she took a hesitant sip of her Chamomile tea Jeremy so thoughtfully got for her.

"You don't sound so sure." Lydia replied as she looked around the coffee shop. She waved to Jeremy who was outside smoking before turning back to the blonde. "You don't have to do this. She doesn't even know about the ring. You can always take it back, use your money to start fresh, and forget about this whole thing." Quinn heard the words and let them marinate. She pictured doing just that—getting her money back and starting over.

"Oh my, God." Quinn breathed out as her hand went to her chest and she closed her eyes tightly.

"What is it?" Lydia asked nervously as she watched the pain swim on the blonde's face. Quinn only shook her head, waving Lydia off. She didn't want to voice it. She didn't want to say how painful the idea was of being apart from Rachel. It felt as though someone punched clear through her heart.

"Nothing. I'm fine." Quinn lied. Lydia watched her closely as they silently drank in the crowded shop. Outside, Jeremy had struck up a conversation with a random guy and Lydia watched quietly before she turned back to Quinn.

"You must have been pretty desperate."

"Huh?" The blonde asked, unsure of what Lydia had said, still focused on the pain. _Don't think about that. Think about the proposal. Step two. _

"You must have been pretty desperate if you lied to some chick just to get away from wherever you're from."

"Ohio. And yeah." Quinn replied noncommittally. After another moment of silence, Lydia starting speaking again.

"But you're an all right looking girl. _No one _wanted you?" Quinn blew out a huff before she looked up at Lydia.

"No. There was a guy." Quinn mumbled, not really understanding where Lydia was going with this line of questioning.

"There was a guy who wanted you?"

"Yep."

Lydia thought that over as her eyebrows furrowed. "You didn't like him?"

"What? Oh, Puck? He's fine I guess." The blonde was still distracted with thoughts of her pending proposal.

"So...what was the problem?" Quinn squinted over her tea at Lydia.

"What do you mean?"

Lydia shrugged as she narrowed her eyes. "I mean, why didn't you just lie and tell this Puck guy that you loved him? Why Rachel?"

"I thought about it." _Rachel would want a grand emotional display for her proposal. _

"So why didn't you?"

"Huh? Oh…um, I told Rachel I loved her first." Quinn supplied. Should_ her fathers be there?_

"Okay. So you knew Rachel had a crush on you?"

"What? Oh, no. I had no idea Rachel had feelings for me." _She probably _would _want me to sing to her but I honestly don't want to. Although the proposal is for her, I want some of me in it too and I just don't see myself being that romantic and bold. _

"So Rachel's gay?"

"If she is I never knew about it before I came to New York." _You do realize if you're not going to do something romantic and bold it has to be really amazing, right? _

"Okay…let me get this straight. This Puck guy liked you?"

"Yeah, he loved me." _Something…that makes her feel special. _

"So Puck loved you. He wanted to be with you?"

"Yeah, he wanted me to go to Ohio State with him." _Something public would be nice. But not too public because I'd probably get too nervous to go through with it. _

"Did you love him?"

"Uh…no. Puck's a nice enough guy and he grew up a lot. We had some history together that complicated things, though." _A fancy restaurant? No, too cliché. _

"You two had history? You mean you dated?"

"Something like that." _Should I get down on one knee? No. I really can't do that. I'm so not ready to drop down on one knee. _

"Before Rachel had you ever been with a girl?"

"Nope." Lydia was silent as she mulled that over. _Maybe a show? Not special enough. _

"Were you and Rachel friends in high school?" Quinn chuckled for a moment before she shook her head.

"Almost the complete opposite of friends. I use to torment her in high school." _Something public but not too public. Something romantic, but not corny. And something very Rachel…God, I have no idea!_

"So a guy you kind of dated, presumably kissed, who loved you and would be going away to school, asked you to go with him?"

"Lydia, why are you asking me all these questions? Why does it matter that I rejected Puck? Who cares?" _Maybe I should-_ Suddenly Lydia slapped her palms on the table getting Quinn to look up in surprise.

"It matters, Quinn, because instead of doing the _sane_ thing and going away to Ohio State with a guy who you dated, who loves you, and asked you to go with him, you lie to a _girl, _a girl who never expressed interest in you and who you never expressed interest in her, or _any _girl for that matter, and you run away with her to New York City? Don't you think that's a little ridiculous? A little extreme? You're a gorgeous blonde who's pretty smart and clearly manipulative enough to get what she wants. Resourceful. You probably could have convinced a hundred guys that you wanted them so they'd take you away. Instead you lie to someone you apparently didn't get along with! Doesn't that strike you as a little odd? Don't you think it's a little strange?"

Quinn's eyebrow stayed perched as she examined Lydia over her tea. "No." The blonde finally said as she swallowed thickly.

"No?" Lydia asked incredulously.

"No, I don't! What's the big deal?" Quinn hissed as she carefully looked around the coffee shop at those who had heard Lydia and were watching the pair curiously.

"You're serious? You don't see anything at all ridiculous with the fact that you probably had a million different ways of getting out of Ohio and instead you lied to a chick and told her you were in love with her? Jesus, Fabray, you're even more repressed than I thought!"

Quinn blanched and then huffed. "I am not. There really wasn't anything else I could have done. Rachel was my only option."

"No, you just said you had this Puck guy."

"…But that's different?" Quinn sputtered.

"How?"

"Be-becau-because…because it is, okay!"

Lydia snorted as sat back in her chair as she sipped her coffee. "Whatever you say."

"Yeah, that's right. Whatever _I _say, because _I'm_ your boss!"

"Okay."

"And I'll fire you if you keep talking!"

"Fine."

"You don't usually talk this much and I like it better the other way."

"I'll stop talking then."

"Good." The pair remained quiet for a few moments before Jeremy came back into the shop and took the seat next to Lydia.

"What are we talking about?" He asked with a big smile.

"How repressed Quinn is."

"Dude, I know right."

"Lydia, you're fired!"

X

Quinn took her time going home. She wasn't exactly sure why, but it felt really soothing walking down the busy, chilly streets of New York City that afternoon. She put Lydia's questions out of her mind, avoided the metric-ton weight in her breast pocket of her pea coat, and focused on step two: the proposal.

Every time she tried to think of creative ways of popping the question, Lydia's words would needle into her head. "I'm not repressed, _you're _repressed." She grumbled as she avoided the Friday sidewalk traffic. _And how am I repressed? I admitted last night that I could possibly, maybe, sort of like Rachel. And so what, I like kissing her, big deal. Stop thinking about it, Fabray, you'll drive yourself crazy. Focus on the proposal._

She wasn't having much luck coming up with anything, however, and soon she was unlocking the door of apartment 4D. "Hey, you." Ah, the reason she was terrified to go home. And it was only wearing a towel.

Rachel was leaning up against the doorway of their bedroom, still a little wet from her shower, and staring at Quinn as though she was the second coming. The blonde gulped audibly as her eyes scanned all of Rachel's bare flesh. She just freaking _knew _this would happen! Quinn knew the second she'd see Rachel, _really _see her—when the diva was actually awake and Quinn was sober—that the previous evening's realization would hit her square in the chest and she'd be looking at Rachel through new eyes. Eyes of a woman who had been fooling herself for some time and had suddenly seen the light.

Words were failing Quinn. Rachel's alluring smirk and come-hither stare as she faked bashfulness were paralyzing the blonde as she stood agape by the still-opened door—her messenger bag hanging from her hand mid-air. "H-hi." Quinn finally got out, her voice raspy, as her bag tumbled from her hand. Rachel bit her lip, loving the effect she was having on the blonde and was glad she never got around to changing.

"I missed you last night." Quinn could only nod. She couldn't recall ever _really _seeing Rachel before. Almost as though her confession of feelings uncloaked the diva and now Quinn could observe her clearly. She could allow her gaze to soak in affectionate eyes and full lips, tanned skin and long legs, and a warmth that seeped into Quinn by just her powerful presence. "Come here." The brunette hummed as she bit her lip seductively, beckoning Quinn forth with her tone and eyes and the small droplets of water that patiently took their time memorizing the diva's curves—making Quinn jealous.

"Oh my, God, Quinn!" The blonde had never seen it coming. She only had eyes for the near-naked brunette and didn't pay any mind to the messenger bag by her feet. One step forward and her right foot got tangled into the strap and she went down quickly. "Baby, are you okay? We really should have gotten an area rug!" Rachel muttered as she dropped down to cradle Quinn's head. The area rug would have probably prevented Quinn from sliding across the hardwood floor into the wall, where she promptly smashed her head.

"Ow." Quinn whispered as her face grew warm, slightly embarrassed that her staring caused the accident. "Shit, that hurt." She mumbled, gently placing her hand on top of Rachel's where it lay on her forehead.

"I should get you some ice. Ooh, I think you're going to have a bump." _Oh, God_! Quinn thought as her eyes innocently glanced over to where Rachel was down on one knee beside her; her towel stopping short, high up on the diva's thigh. If Quinn moved her head only _slightly_ she'd get a view of a lifetime. "Quinn! Don't move your head!" _Jesus, Quinn, don't move your head! Where you _seriously _about to sneak a peek? _"Just don't move, I'm going to get you some ice."

Quinn felt Rachel's lips briefly on her forehead before she was up and scurrying into the kitchen to retrieve the blonde said ice. Quinn didn't listen. She carefully rolled over onto her back to watch Rachel move swiftly about the kitchen, one arm holding her towel in place, as the other dumped ice onto a kitchen towel. "I told you not to move!" Rachel scolded as she hurried back to the fallen blonde. Quinn didn't take the half-scorn seriously, however…but mostly because her gaze was riveted on Rachel's returning legs.

"Here, I'll help you up." Rachel grunted as she leaned down to drape her arm around Quinn's waist. Hazel eyes stayed trained on the white terrycloth—and all things above and below it—as the diva half carried Quinn over to the couch. She gently placed Quinn down and kneeled on the sofa to put the towel of ice onto the reddened area on the blonde's forehead. "It's already swelling." Rachel pouted, unaware that her fiancé was more concerned with the towel's progress slipping up Rachel's thighs then she was about her own head.

_Christ, what is happening to me? _Quinn wondered as her left hand found its way to Rachel's bare thigh. "Are you in pain? Should I get you something for a headache?" The diva gasped loudly. "You don't think you're concussed, do you? We should go to the hospital! I'll call the ambulance!" Rachel shrieked, ready to jump off the couch in a near-panic before the hand on her leg stopped her. "What is it, Quinn? Don't try to talk!"

Quinn slowly reached up and grasped the towel of ice before she tossed it onto the coffee table, her eyes never leaving Rachel's. "Quinn? What is it?" The diva had never seen the blonde so pale. It made her hazel stand out in stark relief; it was quite striking. Her next inquiry got lost as she felt Quinn's fingers tangle into her wet hair and press her head down until her lips were being hungrily kissed.

"_Mmmm." _Rachel moaned and then whimpered as she realized where Quinn's other hand was resting. Quinn's neck craned as she slipped her tongue deeply into Rachel's mouth and pushed harder on dark hair to keep them close. Rachel obliged and shimmied alongside Quinn's body to lie tightly up against the blonde.

Rachel's body was still humming from her early morning dream and thoughts of Quinn. It was almost as though her wish had come true: Quinn appeared to be lowering her defenses. It was almost too easy for Rachel to lower her own. Without a thought in her head, the diva slipped her bare leg in between Quinn's as the blonde kissed her passionately.

Quinn couldn't believe she had been so blind for so long. Of course she liked Rachel. She liked Rachel _a lot_. She liked the soft sounds the diva made as they kissed; little mews and breathy whimpers. She liked the feel of her kisses; dangerous in their intensity and startling in their fever. She even liked how crazy Rachel can be; calling an ambulance? It was all so Rachel. A Rachel that Quinn had spent the past year and a half memorizing and catering to. It was all a blessing in disguise, really. Forcing herself to be around Rachel made Quinn see how truly likable the girl is. So familiar. And bubbly. And just adorable.

"_Fuck_, Quinn." _And it turns out, extremely sexy when she curses. _Quinn got out of her own head and dragged Rachel's body on top of her own; _very _aware that the diva was only wearing a towel. Her heart was hamming with the realization and her breath caught when their eyes met; Rachel hovering over her and panting, staring down at her with dark eyes and swollen lips.

_This isn't happening. _Quinn thought as she blinked up at the diva. _Don't think, don't think….just do. Just a few harmless kisses, some light touching, and get out of this! This is too intense! _But someone forgot to give Rachel the memo, because Rachel was kissing Quinn as though it was just the beginning. She sucked on the blonde's tongue, biting her lower lip, moving on top of Quinn as though she didn't mind that her towel was completely dislodged from her body. Her bare thigh was between Quinn's legs and her tanned arms were wrapped around the blonde's neck and tangled in her hair as she kissed Quinn with intent.

Quinn was aware that she could feel Rachel's naked body through her clothes. Her hands were traveling down terrycloth until she felt skin. Rachel moaned deeply in her mouth and Quinn's only clear thought was that she wanted to hear the tantalizing sound again. So without further ado, her palms skimmed up the backs of Rachel's thighs up until her hands were full of Rachel's ass.

"Oh, God yes." Rachel hissed out as she ducked her head into Quinn's neck as she started sucking the skin with renewed passion. She was squirming on top of the blonde, subtly rocking her hips as she felt Quinn's hands flex and release her ass.

Rachel went back to attacking Quinn's lips, loving the feel of the blonde's tongue sliding against her own as she massaged her ass. She felt her towel gaping in the back and slip in the front, almost exposing her breasts, and felt white-hot heat rush through her body before settling in her core. She was very aroused. Her near-naked state only added to that. Thoughts of blonde hair skimming her stomach, pale hands ghosting over her skin, and whispered words promising so much raced through her mind. "_Jesus, _I love you." Rachel murmured into the blonde's ear at the thought that they were finally on the small page. They were finally going to express physically to one another how deep their emotions ran.

But the words startled Quinn and she jerked her head. "What? Ow!" Quinn cursed and reached for the already swelling part of her head that just crashed against Rachel's. "_Shit_!"

"Oh my, goodness! I'm so sorry, Quinn!" Rachel apologized as she sat up, cupping Quinn's face in her hands as she peered down at the blonde in horror. "Are you okay?" Quinn's eyes slowly fluttered open and when they did, all of her pain vanished. Rachel's towel was somewhere forgotten, pooled around her thighs.

"_Oh, wow." _Quinn breathed out. At that exact moment, the phone rang in the kitchen distracting Rachel.

"I'll be right back." The diva promised, hiking her towel up around her body before slipping off of Quinn. "Put this on it." Rachel mentioned, placing the towel of ice back on the blonde's forehead before she took off for the kitchen.

Quinn was vaguely aware of the conversation going on in the next room. Flashes of a naked Rachel flared through her mind and increased her arousal beautifully. The blonde was conscious of her heaving chest and shallow breaths, but the thing that garnered most of her attention was the throbbing between her thighs. Without another thought, Quinn removed the towel of ice from her head and placed it square over her thrumming clit. "Ah!" The blonde winced at the sensation. She lifted her head to glance down at her action before crashing back down on the pillow; this was seriously becoming an issue. Her body was furious with its lack of relief. Almost as though her mind and body were two separate entities and her mind hadn't fully caught up to the fact that Quinn was hurting; she had _finally _realized what the fuss was all about. It just had taken some time. And the sight of Rachel's perfect breasts; dark and full. The long flat plains of the diva's toned stomach; the faint line of defined abs that Quinn's fingers were itching to trace. And, _my, God, _the vision of Rachel's pussy; bare, pink, and swollen.

Quinn leapt from the couch upon hearing Rachel scream in the next room that followed the sound of the diva slamming the phone down. The blonde met the jumping brunette just outside the kitchen. "Quinn! Oh my, God, Quinn! Guess what, guess what, guess what!" Rachel bounced, clearly excited, her eyes bright and her smile wide.

"What? What is it?" Rachel's arms flung around Quinn's neck as she continued jumping up and down in excitement.

"That was Stefan's assistant! They're moving up production on _A Sweetness _because of the massive interest! We start Monday!" Rachel shouted through giggles of elation.

"Wow, Rach, that's great!" Quinn's head was whirling with all the jumping, bouncing, and nakedness. Suddenly the phone rang again and Rachel was gone to retrieve it.

"Jesse! Did you get the call?" Rachel squealed as she cradled the phone. The diva was back to jumping up and down and talking a mile a minute as Quinn stood there and watched. Rachel kept grinning at her like mad as she chatted and the blonde was left feeling confused and troubled. _What would have happened if the phone hadn't rang? Or if I never hit my head? _

Quinn was aware that her eyes were still raking over Rachel's body. Pretending the towel wasn't in place—she now had a visual to go on—as the diva yapped away. _You need to get a grip. You're losing it. Go take a shower, relax, and move on about your day. Especially because the sight of Rachel, in a towel, happily talking to Jesse is making you anxious. _

The blonde smiled at Rachel and motioned towards the bathroom. "Wait a minute, Jesse. What's wrong, Quinn?" Rachel asked as she covered the mouth piece to the phone.

"Nothing. I'm going to let you talk. I'm just going to jump in the shower and then I have some errands to do." Rachel frowned.

"But I wanted to spend the day with you. It's a rarity that neither one of us has school and now that Lydia is helping with your walks, I thought we could," Rachel bit her lip as she ducked her head. "I thought perhaps we could continue where we left off?"

Quinn swallowed back the urge to slam the phone on its cradle and pick up where they left off right there on the kitchen floor. She wanted to say that she'd love to, but her nerves were taking over. She knew nothing about lesbian sex. She barely knew anything about _regular _sex it had been so long. She only _just _realized that she had developed feelings for Rachel. Quinn didn't know if she was ready for more. Especially if Rachel was going to be whispering her I love yous during. She cared about Rachel. And the idea of making love with her and _not _being able to say the words back—now that things were no longer fake—made it seem even worse than her initial lie. "I have errands. Food shopping." Quinn answered lamely with a shrug. Food shopping was hardly pressing, but she needed time to suss everything out. Things were going fast for Quinn. The engagement ring was like an added heartbeat against her chest. They almost had sex. And Rachel was peering up at Quinn as though a wedding was just around the corner.

Quinn just needed a moment. Just a breather to figure everything out. "Well…can I come with?"

"You want to go grocery shopping with me?" Not really, but Rachel didn't want to be apart from the blonde yet. She wanted to hear about her night out with Lydia and her boyfriend. She wanted to tell Quinn about the look on Jesse's face when she rejected him. She wanted to gush about starting production on _A Sweetness_. She just wanted to _be_ with the blonde.

"If you don't mind?"

X

Rachel swung their laced hands back and forth as the sliding doors of the food store opened. The long walk to the store had given them amble time to catch up on their evenings. Quinn was _very _pleased with how Rachel had rejected Jesse. And although the diva was a little skeptical about Lydia and Jeremy, she hid it well.

Almost as though she was playing the role of a grocery shopper, the diva turned, smiled brightly, and picked up the small basket to show Quinn. "Look at me shop."

Quinn nodded and hummed through her mashed lips, holding back a laugh and an eye roll. "You're doing a fantastic job so far, Rach. Maybe _you _should do the shopping from now on." The blonde smiled falsely with a tilt of her head and sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Don't be embarrassed, Quinn. My talents are so vast and wide, even picking up a basket appears effortless. I'll teach you my wrist technique later." Rachel smirked with a pointed look before she took off towards aisle one. The blonde bit her lip as she watched Rachel go, her eyes suspiciously trained quite low, around the ass and leg region, before she followed after the diva.

"We can skip aisle one, Rach." Quinn directed, motioning towards the aisle over.

"But I want to start at the beginning, Quinn. This is my first time and I want to get it right." Rachel replied with a firm nod. "And why do you have a cart? I already got this." She explained as she swayed the basket back and forth on her fingertips.

"Because you eat like a thirteen year old boy who just got insanely stoned, that's why, Rach. We'll need a cart. And if I didn't go food shopping every week I'd say we'd need a forklift."

"That is hardly fair to say, Quinn." Rachel scolded as she stashed the basket before taking over the reins of the cart, softly bumping Quinn out of the way. "I just happened to be physically active from the moment I wake up in the morning to the moment I go to sleep. Over the course of a full day I burn quite a few calories and it is important to nourish one's body accordingly."

"Whatever you say." Quinn muttered as she folded her arms across her chest and followed behind Rachel as the diva took off down aisle one.

"Everything in this aisle is animal buy-products." Rachel frowned as she looked left and right of the chest freezers stocked with meats, chicken, and fish.

"Hence why I recommended skipping aisle one." Quinn answered over her shoulder as she eyed the bacon and pouted briefly.

"Well this is a learning experience for me, Quinn. Now I know. On to aisle two!" Rachel beamed as she raised her arm and jabbed it into the air with a flourish.

"Are we really going aisle by aisle because if so, I should really call Lydia to cover my next walk." Rachel ignored the question as she cut the cart down to aisle two. She was carefully scanning each item on the shelves to see if there was anything that they needed. "I guess so." Quinn mumbled as she took out her cell.

"Hey, Quinn." The blonde glanced up from her phone and gave the stock boy a small smile.

"Hi, Tim." Rachel frowned as she stood still, looking up at the boy whose eyes were trained on Quinn. The blonde was ignorant to his attention, however, texting away on her phone as she stood behind Rachel. The diva furrowed her brow momentarily before she continued on with her shopping, taking things off shelves and carefully placing them in the cart, all while slyly sneaking peeks at this _Tim _character as she did so.

"Rachel, since when do you eat Velveeta Shells and Cheese?" Quinn asked, eyebrow quirked, as she examined what Rachel just placed in their cart. Rachel was slightly puzzled, not quite recalling ever picking up the box of macaroni, but aware that Tim was watching them, so she just smiled up at Quinn.

"But, _sweetie_, I thought maybe you'd like them." Now the blonde was even more confused. Rachel was blinking up at her innocently and Quinn silently wondered what she was doing. But she _had _missed cheese, even the powered kind. So instead of questioning the diva, Quinn just shrugged and counted her blessings.

Nothing major happened until aisle five. They had just passed the floral area when Quinn heard her name being called. "Oh, hey Carl." The blonde waved. But the tall redhead hurried over to the pair, grinning brightly.

"Hey, Quinn! I thought that was you. How've ya been?" Rachel's knuckles whitened as she gripped the handlebars of the cart, watching Carl smile at Quinn as though she were the only person in the store while Quinn looked back completely at ease.

"Everything's fine. You?" Carl nodded and grinned, assuring Quinn that all was well.

"You buying any flowers today?"

"Not today." Quinn answered with an easy laugh. Rachel frowned harder.

"Hi, I'm Rachel Berry. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting." The diva smiled falsely as she stuck out her hand. Carl looked as though he just realized that he and Quinn were not alone.

"Hey, I'm Carl." He said politely, taking Rachel's hand in his.

"Yes, I gathered." Quinn's eyes narrowed at the diva's behavior. The blonde almost laughed out loud when she realized that Rachel was jealous.

"Carl, Rachel here is the recipient of all those flowers I've been purchasing." Quinn was struggling to contain her laughter.

"Yes, Carl. Quinn is a very thoughtful _fiancé. _Thank you so much for providing her with all of those beautiful flowers she has given me over the span of our _year and half _relationship." Quinn rubbed her forehead in an effort to disguise her smile. Carl, however, was no longer grinning.

"Uh…yes. It's been my pleasure. Quinn mentions you quite a bit." Rachel was _very _pleased to hear this, although she was quite annoyed that Carl didn't seem to take the blonde's hints.

"Well it's been lovely meeting you Carl. I'll have to keep you in mind for any upcoming special events. If you'll excuse us." Quinn gave Carl a small wave, still biting back her smile, as she dutifully followed after Rachel.

"Hey, Quinn!" The produce guy called out. Quinn waved back before her eyes flicked down to her fuming fiancé.

"Oh, hey, Quinn!" Another stock boy greeted. "How did those portabella mushrooms turn out?"

"They were great. Thanks, Frank." Aisle by aisle, section by section, the pair would run into someone who knew Quinn. Even certain shoppers were friendly. _Too _friendly in Rachel's unbiased opinion.

"You're _quite _the celebrity around these parts." Rachel grumbled as she tossed her favorite cookies into the half-filled cart, throwing Quinn a glowering look over her shoulder as she did so.

"Rach," Quinn chuckled as she slipped behind the diva, resting her pale hands on top of Rachel's that gripped the cart. "I've been coming here every Friday for over a year and a half. People are bound to recognize me." She said carefully, resting her chin on the diva's shoulder.

"Hmpf, recognize you, or gawk, Quinn? I'm surprise someone didn't get on the loudspeaker upon your arrival. 'Attention, shoppers. Quinn Fabray is here!'" The blonde chuckled in Rachel's ear and pressed her body closer to the diva's.

"And what do you think they'll say once _A Sweetness _comes out? Hmm? Or _A Date a Month? _Everyone will be clambering to get your autograph." Quinn saw the small smile on Rachel's face as they continued slowly making their way down aisle ten.

"I do look forward to that moment. My whole life I've dreamt of giving my first autograph." Rachel sighed wistfully. "It really will be a dream come true. But that doesn't change the fact that from now on I'm coming grocery shopping with you! All these Tims, Carls, and Franks will just have to deal with it." Rachel grumbled.

After over an hour of shopping, the pair finally made their way to the checkout. Quinn removed a stack of coupons from her pocket along with her Club Card, and handed them over to the smiling girl behind the register. "So _that's _why you're always cutting up the newspaper." Rachel commented in awe. Every Sunday, Quinn would be bent over the newspaper, skimming the ads as she sat on the floor, while Rachel did her vocal training. The blonde only answered with an amused chuckled as she ran her fingers through Rachel's dark hair.

"You're so funny." And Quinn meant it. There was something so endearing to her that Rachel was constantly caught up in her own little world. She was never leaning over Quinn's shoulder, pegging her with questions. She let the blonde be, and Quinn appreciated it.

"Hey, Quinn. Long time no see." The cashier girl smiled as she checked each item and matched it up with a coupon.

"Hi, Denise."

Rachel rolled her eyes and expelled a breath as she flicked through the newest issue of _People. _"I had off last Friday, so I haven't seen you in a while." Quinn only nodded with a hum of understanding, very aware that the diva wasn't amused. Quinn thought Rachel's pout was perfectly adorable.

"Come on, _baby_," Quinn called over to Rachel as she totted their grocery bags, grinning playfully as Rachel frowned at Denise. "Let's hurry home so we can have tons of sex!" Rachel's jaw dropped as her eyes bulged. She exchanged shocked glances with Denise, the diva's face bright red, before she hurriedly chased after the laughing blonde.

"That was wholly unnecessary, Quinn Fabray." Rachel chided as she relieved Quinn of some bags as they made their way out of the store.

"Well I wasn't wearing my 'property of Rachel Berry' shirt, so I thought I'd just go ahead and make it quite clear to poor Denise." There was a long beat as Quinn waved her arm in the air to hail a cab.

"They make shirts like that?"

"Rachel!"

X

"Five, six, seven, eight; tap, tap, tap, hands out in front. Pirouette left, pirouette right. Shoulder swing, shoulder swing, pirouette and stop, stop, stop!" Quinn glanced up from her knitting to watch the choreographer bare down on Dean, the poor actor who plays Martin—Rachel's character's love interest—yet again. Raising her eyebrow slightly, the blonde's eyes shifted stage right just in time to see Jesse St. James make him way over to Rachel.

"Stefan should really do something about that oaf." Jesse murmured from the corner of his mouth to his costar as he stretched his hamstring. As she patted the sweat from her brow, Rachel nodded her head.

"How Stefan expects to bring Dean to my caliber is beyond me."

"Honestly, how is anyone going to believe that, that Neanderthal would beat my character in a dance-match to the death? No one can out-pirouette _me_!"

"You really pirouette beautifully, Jesse."

"Well, I've had extensive training." Rachel and Jesse paused a moment to watch the choreographer swing Dean's hips, curse animatedly in Russian, and then spit on the floor before exiting the stage.

"He reminds me a great deal of that boring football player you use to waste your time with in high school." Rolling her eyes, Rachel took a swig of her water before tossing the bottle off to the side.

"Let's just practice, shall we?"

"You can't improve on perfection. Let's run lines instead. I'm still unsure as to why my character would gasp in surprise once he learns Cecile has taken up a job at a speakeasy. Wouldn't it be more profound if Theo laughed? Doesn't _that _make more sense? I suppose I speak to Stefan about it."

It was only the second day of rehearsals. Everyone was under a great deal of strain to learn lines, dances, songs, and stage actions as quickly as possible. The buzz over _A Sweetness _was so big that Stefan was hoping that it would be on Broadway just after the New Year. It was a lofty goal, but one Rachel and Jesse took seriously. They both had their lines down and songs perfected before rehearsals even started. It didn't take them long to pick up on the dance routines and their placements on stage in each scene.

With the moving up of production for _A Sweetness_, both Quinn and Rachel knew that it would make filming the movie a tad bit more difficult. But Matt assured them both that he could work around the diva's schedule, so no one was really worried. They didn't have a lot of time to complete the film, though. The deadline for _Sundance _would be at the end of the month so everyone needed to be on their game for its timely completion.

Well…perhaps _Quinn _was worried. School might be over for the semester, but the blonde was worried about the strain on Rachel. Filming a movie and throwing herself into the show was going to be overwhelming. And once the movie was over, she'd have to contend with school _and_ the play. It was going to be difficult on the diva.

Her knitting forgotten, Quinn's eyes stayed trained on Rachel and Jesse as they practiced a scene. The pair was standing rather close to one another as they ran lines, and the blonde's eyebrow quirked higher as Rachel laughed at whatever the boy had said.

"She's watching us, correct?" Rachel asked as she moved about the stage.

"Uh huh." Jesse hummed before he advanced on the diva. "Please explain to me again _why_ this is necessary? I did tell you the part where she threatened me, correct?" The boy asked as he mechanically went through his dance moves with his eyes on his script.

"Because, Jesse," Rachel began, also running through dance number that preceded the aforementioned speakeasy scene. "Quinn is not always forthcoming with her emotions. If she is prompted, she is more inclined to be honest." Indeed Rachel had spent a great deal of time trying to pick up from where they had left off a few days before on the couch. Over the weekend, when the diva wasn't running through her lines, it wasn't uncommon for Quinn to come home to find Rachel in only a towel.

"Mmm hmm. Well forgive me if I'm not pirouetting with joy and fawning all over you. I rather _like _where my scrotum is, thank you very much." Rachel giggled and couldn't help but peer out into the audience where Quinn was sitting. Their eyes only met briefly before the blonde ducked her head and went back to her knitting.

"Tell me again what your Quinn said to Stefan? I find it rather fascinating that he's allowing her to watch rehearsals."

"What she _told _me she said and what she _actually _said, I'm sure, are quite different." Rachel explained with a smug grin. "I have a feeling she toned it down quite a bit for me."

"Yes, well regardless, she certainly has a way with people, doesn't she?" Jesse commented as he finished his dancing. He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and planted his feet. "'I should remove you at once and throw you to the gutter for what you've become!'"

Rachel gasped loudly as she placed her hand on her forehead. "'Theo! Please understand!'…" As the pair ran lines, Quinn fought the urge to follow through on Jesse's character's plans. Well…not the gutter part. But she was very tempted to remove Rachel from the stage—and for that matter, Jesse's presence.

So far, the boy had been only moderately flirtatious with the diva since Quinn's threat she had made the day before; hugging Rachel upon her arrival at the theatre, speaking with her during lulls in rehearsals, and standing a bit too close for Quinn's taste. But it was a hell of a lot better than constantly touching her fiancé like he had done before the blonde threatened him. Quinn smirked at the memory.

"Jesse? If you don't mind, a word?" Quinn had asked casually as she inspected her nails. Rachel had been off discussing a scene with Stefan and the blonde could hardly let the opportunity pass. Jesse smiled at the other cast members eager to get home after their trying first dance rehearsal and told them he'd catch up before turning back to Quinn.

"And what may I do for you, Quinn?" He had known this was coming; the speech. She was going to threaten him to stay away from Rachel and blah blah blah. And perhaps he may have gone a tad too far earlier that day when he demonstrated to Dean the _proper _way to kiss Cecile after their characters had fought in the scene, but honestly he was just following orders. Rachel's orders. No, the diva hadn't told him to kiss her. But he was an actor. And actors improvise.

Quinn hadn't been amused. She wasn't sure why she hadn't thought about it, Rachel having to kiss someone in her varying acting roles, but when Stefan declared that Dean needed to seize Rachel by the shoulders and lay one on her, Quinn nearly rushed the stage. It wasn't as though she was jealous, no…more like…more like…_protective_. Yes, that's all it was. After Dean's feeble attempt at passion, Jesse took it upon himself to display the correct way.

Thankfully Rachel didn't let the kiss last. And the diva _definitely _was upset, which comforted Quinn. But the blonde thought it was about time to trade some words with Jesse St. James. She felt as though it was almost four years past due.

"I'll tell you what you can do for me, St. James. You can never touch my fiancé again." Jesse thought Quinn would sneer. Or perhaps growl. He thought her eyebrows would invert and her face would get all red and scrunched up in anger. He had been wrong. Instead, Quinn just smiled sweetly. "Rachel may tolerate you and has given you a second chance. But I'm not like that."

"Well I suppose it's a good thing Rachel _does _give second chances. After all, you wouldn't be here if she didn't." Jesse pointed out with a smile of his own.

"I think I've proven myself to her." Quinn's smile only got broader.

"Ah, redemption. It's a beautiful thing, wouldn't you say?"

"Just leave my fiancé's lips alone, Jesse. The last guy who didn't do as I asked found himself shooting blanks." Jesse's eyebrow rose, but he said nothing. With a smile he gave a slight bow before leaving the theatre. Quinn didn't feel the need to explain that Noah Puckerman took it upon himself to get the vasectomy—she felt as though Puck had gotten the procedure because he was afraid of another girl going all scary-Quinn on him again more than he was worried about fathering a child.

But Jesse's words had struck a slight nerve in the blonde. Every day, every time she cleaned the apartment or made dinner, went to Rachel's classes or walked dogs, she thought of high school. Maybe she was overcompensating for her past treatment towards the diva, but she definitely felt she had something to prove. Rachel Berry had suffered a great deal at the hands of Quinn Fabray. Long before Rachel tried to steal Finn or dated Puck or gave away the truth of Beth's parentage. Long before Quinn knew the brunette was a self-absorbed know-it-all. The blonde had just taken one look at the diva's attire and air of confidence and thought it wise to put her in her place. She _was _lucky Rachel granted second chances. The blonde just thoroughly wished they only applied to her, _not _Jesse St. James.

But lucky the boy got the hint and he backed off…slightly. But she was glad she had nipped it in the bud; approaching him after the first rehearsal. She couldn't imagine having to deal with Jesse's hands all over Rachel for any length of time.

Quinn's phone vibrated in her pocket and she took it out only to see she had received a text from Lydia stating 911. The blonde rolled her eyes and got up from her seat to call the girl back. Apparently, she had lost a dog. Quinn was actually surprised the girl went as long as she had without the feat.

"Hey, I have to go. Dog emergency." Quinn whispered to Rachel at the foot of the stage.

"Is everything okay?" Rachel kneeled down to ask.

"It will be. I'll, uh," Quinn glanced over to see Jesse watching the pair. He smiled smugly before he went back to rehearsing. "I'll see you at home?" Rachel smiled and leaned forward to kiss Quinn.

"You will. I love you." She whispered as she pulled back.

"Yeah, you too." Quinn replied and smiled before she turned to leave. Quinn hated that she couldn't say the words back. The words she had no problem saying only weeks before. But now that actual feelings were involved, she didn't want to lie. She wasn't in love with Rachel…not _yet _anyway. But the blonde brushed that thought aside and hurried out of the theater.

"No, no, no! You _must _pirouette _grander, _Dean! Grander!" The chorographer shouted as her stomped his foot.

"I think I'm going to need a drink after rehearsal. You in?" Jesse asked as he got into place.

"Sure." Rachel replied distractedly. _Why didn't she say she loved me back? _

X

The pair was casually sipping drinks at the bar around the corner from the theatre at a small round table. The only other patrons there were cheering loudly at the TV for whatever sporting event that was taking place.

Since they had arrived, Jesse was going on and on about Martha, his sugarmom, and adding in different critiques regarding the show. "Jesse, can I ask you a question?" Rachel began. In all honesty, she really hadn't heard a word the boy had said since they had gotten there. The diva had been mulling over in her head, since Quinn had left the theater, when the last time she recalled Quinn saying I love you to her.

Jesse took a bit of his salad and nodded. "How do you seduce women?" A piece of lettuce fell from his fork as he stared across the table at the diva. Suddenly he was laughing and went back to eating.

"Why would you ask me that?" He inquired with a smile.

"I'm…I'm just curious is all." She had the jealous thing working for her—it was obvious that Quinn disliked Jesse and was keeping the diva close. Rachel knew the power of jealousy, she wasn't kidding about going grocery shopping every Friday from here on out with the blonde. But the towel thing was no longer working. Quinn would always find some reason to be too busy to fool around and Rachel was getting desperate. Throw in the fact that she _couldn't _remember the last time Quinn had said she loved her, and Rachel was panicking.

"Well that's a ridiculous question to ask. Especially because you are aware of my techniques since I have already used them on you." Jesse added with a smug grin and a raised eyebrow.

Rachel used her straw to stir her pink drink as she contemplated that. "Well in all honesty I don't really remember your technique. And besides, in regards to what I _do _remember, nothing truly stands out." Jesse snorted and smiled amusingly over at the diva.

"Well that's the point, correct?"

"Jesse would you just tell me!" Rachel pouted.

"Why is this so important to you? You already have Quinn and as far as I can tell she's not going _anywhere_, so why is this even relevant?" Rachel frowned as she continued to stir her drink. She didn't want to admit to Jesse that her fiancé, although attentive and protective, wasn't putting out. It was embarrassing.

"Maybe I just want to surprise her a little. Mix things up a bit." Jesse's eyebrows furrowed but he started to cave as the diva pouted further.

"Fine!"

"Yay!" Rachel clapped, getting Jesse to huff.

"First I-"

"Wait, wait, wait! Let me get my notebook!" Rachel shouted as she reached down to her bag and retrieved her notebook and pencil. "Okay, I'm ready." Jesse shook his head as he smiled.

"Well first tell me what it is you already do to make Quinn feel special." Rachel was silent as she stared at the boy; her eyebrows knitted as she frowned.

"What do you mean?" She asked in confusion.

"I _mean_, what is it you do for Quinn? What small things? Buying her flowers. Cooking her favorite meals…what stuff do you do for her?"

A long moment went by as Rachel bit her lip in thought. "But Quinn doesn't really like flowers and we both know I can't cook. Quinn always does." She answered with a shrug.

Jesse blew out a breath as he dropped his fork. "Okay well, what stuff do you plan that she likes? Places you take her. Fun activities she likes to do?" Another long moment passed as Rachel moved her lips side to side. "You don't do any of that stuff, do you?"

"Well Quinn's a complex person, Jesse!" Rachel defended as she threw up her arms. "She'd rather stay in than go out. She's tired from working and going to my classes, she doesn't have any friends, and she's dead-set against helping me train instead of doing activities of her own!" Cheers echoed around the bar as Jesse observed Rachel in silence.

"Let me get this straight," Jesse started with a grin, leaning forward in his chair slightly in anticipation. "Quinn cooks, cleans, works, goes to your classes, and attends to your every whim and fancy, all while you do _nothing _in return?" Rachel's silence was enough of an answer and Jess slammed his back into his chair as he observed her in awe. "How the hell did you pull that off, Berry? I'm impressed. Maybe _I _should be the one taking notes!"

Rachel frowned as Jesse continued to gaze at her in wonder. "It's not that I don't _want _to do anything, she's just really accommodating. She's never complained, at any rate."

"I can't believe you!"

"Oh, would you stop." Rachel chastised as she tossed a napkin at him. "Quinn really is amazing and I would like to show her as much." After Jesse was finally able to get over Rachel's news, he went back to eating his salad.

"Well what are some of the things you think Quinn would like? What matters to her?"

"Family, for one. It bothers me that she has no one in her life. It's the reason I asked my fathers to come visit. I'm hoping she can, perhaps, get close to them. And friends, as well. It doesn't entirely sit well with me that I'm her only contact."

"That doesn't sound like you." Jesse stated as he lifted his eyebrow.

"I tend to agree." Rachel admitted. "But perhaps I feel that since Quinn is perfectly fine only having me in her life, that I'm not threatened if she were to broaden her horizons a tad."

"She doesn't have any friends?"

"Well she just hired a girl, Lydia, to help with her dog walking. While we out the other night, Quinn made plans with Lydia and her boyfriend."

"Well that's good." Rachel shrugged.

"Lydia's not exactly the kind of person I had in mind for Quinn. She's a bit odd. And her boyfriend is quite the stoner." Jesse shivered and Rachel nodded. "Exactly. Although I have to say that they are perhaps better than Brittany and Santana were. At least Lydia doesn't appear as though she's going to turn around and stab Quinn in the back. But Quinn's never really had any _real_ friends. I want that for her."

"Well you can hardly force her to make friends, Rachel." Something occurred to Rachel and she gasped and sat up straight.

"That is not necessarily true!"

"This doesn't sound good." Jesse muttered as he sipped his beer.

"No, hear me out. Quinn _did _have one true friend in high school. Mercedes Jones." Rachel said as she smiled and nodded firmly.

"That was the diva, correct?" Jesse droned, not really impressed with any of the New Directions members.

"Uh huh. Quinn lived with her while she was pregnant and then again after Quinn's parents got back together and her father kicked her out."

"Well there you go. Call Mercedes up." Jesse was losing interest in the conversation.

"But," Rachel was back to frowning. "They're not really friends anymore."

"Why, what happened?" Jesse huffed out, feigning curiosity as he tried to get the waitress's attention for another round.

"I'm not entirely sure. I asked Quinn about it once. She just said they grew apart. They both were in relationships and Quinn was busy trying to stay on top at McKinley. I really _would _like it if Quinn had someone in her life she could really talk to. Someone to share things with that actually appeared interested." Rachel sighed wistfully as she rested her palm against her cheek.

"So why don't you just write Mercedes a letter, penning it as Quinn, and try to patch things up? I'm sure it would mean a great deal to Quinn." Rachel smiled. She liked that idea. Something about writing a letter seemed very romantic in nature.

"What a lovely idea, Jesse, thank you." He just nodded as he smirked at their waitress. "But perhaps I should do more than just repair their relationship. What else do you suggest?"

Jesse sighed again and shrugged. "What else does Quinn like or need?"

"School. She likes attending my classes." Jess chuckled and went back to staring at Rachel in wonder.

"Seriously, how did you pull this off?" She ignored him.

"I know that she got into NYU," Rachel thought over. "Although the scholarship they gave her wasn't nearly as big as Quinn needed. Perhaps I could look into that. She really should take some business and entertainment courses. She has a knack for finding rolls." Jesse tucked that piece of information away before he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

"I think I'm going to try my hand at taking the waitress home. You okay for the evening?" Rachel nodded, still distracted as her mind whirled with ideas. She rather liked the idea of finding different ways to help the blonde. She was currently making plans to call the head of admissions for Julliard for tips on how to get more scholarship money from a school. Then she'd go to NYU and see if she could perhaps squeeze more money out of them. She had already penned the letter to Mercedes in her head. And now she had moved on to different ways she could show her appreciation. _Perhaps lingerie shopping…_

X

Quinn was sitting alone at the _Starbucks _and sipping on tea. Lydia had just left—it had taken them nearly an hour to locate Pepper and return him home. Luckily his owner was none the wiser about the little labradoodle's great escape.

But just like the last time the two girls had sat in the _Starbucks_, Quinn was back to thinking about her original motives concerning Rachel. She really didn't have time to think about it—she was supposed to be planning a party for the diva. The Berry men had called the blonde wondering if she'd be up to helping them plan a surprise party. Sort of a congratulations on her roles in _A Sweetness_ and _A Date a Month _—tentative title—slash birthday party. She knew it would mean the world to Rachel and Quinn would smile every time she'd picture the diva's face—shocked, surprised, and elated over the attention. It would also create the perfect opportunity to propose. _Gulp_.

Quinn had already spoken to Jen about the party, and the girl had helped Quinn put together a guest list of all of Rachel's Julliard friends. She was supposed to be jotting down food ideas—Quinn would be cooking—but she couldn't help but get distracted. Her newly realized feelings concerning the diva were making her question a lot.

_Why _did_ we lie to Rachel that night? _

_We were drunk, who knows? _

_But…it is kind of weird. I mean, we were at Puck's house. Before we left he was actually trying to get our attention to talk. So why didn't we just lie to _him_? Why Rachel? _

_Because we wanted to get out of Ohio, not just Lima and Rachel could offer us that. _

_But…at that point, we were so desperate it didn't really matter. We just wanted to go _somewhere_. _

_Everyone was talking about Rachel that night. We were drunk and had a one-track mind. _

_Okay…but what about the next day? At graduation? When we were sober. Why didn't we talk to Puck then? _

_Quinn, stop! What are you doing? We didn't talk to Puck because of the whole Beth thing and—_

_No, _you_ stop! Think about this! Puck is the obvious choice! We knew he loved us. We knew he wanted us to go with him to Ohio State. He's on a football scholarship and saved up a lot of money from his pool cleaning business—_

_He's a loser who was going nowhere!_

_But it makes more sense to tell a girl who we thought was straight that we loved her? Even though we treated her so horribly in high school? How does that make more sense? And how about after that, once we were alone in Lima? Why didn't we try anyone else? Why didn't we go to the Joneses or call Puck then? Why were we waiting for Rachel Berry? _

…_I don't know, okay? _

…_Me either…_

_Look…I didn't want to bring this up, but…_

_But what? _

_God, I promised myself I wouldn't tell you this…_

_What? _

_Jesus, Quinn, are you so freaking blind? Are you serious right now? Don't you think it's a tad suspicious that you always singled her out? _

_She was weird in high school? _

_News flash, Quinn! She's _still _weird! She hasn't changed! The only person who has changed here is _you_!_ _She's the same self-obsessed girl she has always been! You're the one that is going out of her way to make her happy! Doing anything possible. And all under some weird code where you're a Stepford Wife! Well wake up! Because Rachel Berry doesn't need you to do every little thing you've been doing! Look at how crappy a boyfriend Finn was! She didn't care, she was just happy to have someone. But you've gone above and beyond and for what? _

…_What are you saying? _

_God, Quinn! You really _are _that repressed! Pornographic pictures? Trolling her Myspace page? Thinking up new and different ways to get her attention all under the cloak of annoying her? Sabotaging her every chance to have a boyfriend? Face it, Quinn, you've liked Rachel Berry since the moment she stepped in McKinley and you've been too much of a coward to notice it! _

…_That-that's not true. _

_No? It's not? _

_I…I was lying and manipulating! _

_You were courting and wooing. Face it. You like her. You are falling in love with her! You'd probably already _be_ in love with if it weren't for the fact that you're too terrified of what it means! _

_I…_

_You're so scared that if you allow yourself to get intimate with her that your feelings will slap you in your face and you'll no longer be in control. That this is all all right as long as it's a scheme, that _you're_ calling the shots! But the second, the freaking _second_ you actually admit to yourself that what you want with Rachel is more than just a lie, you'll lose all the power! You'll set yourself up to get hurt. "Pretending" to be gay will no longer be all right! Then, your father's words about gays will mean _you! _It won't be just a lie for self-preservation. It will be real. And the words will hurt. And you'll be vulnerable. You've never been in love before and you're too chickenshit to go there. To allow yourself to be happy because throughout your whole life you've always followed orders and never did what _you _wanted to do. Always playing a part to get in your father's good graces or higher up on the McKinley food chain. For the first time in your life you can call the shots, and you're terrified! You're a scared little girl. _That's _why you were always so mean to Rachel. _That's _why you're still pretending that your feelings aren't a big deal. And _that's _why you're too scared to be alone with her. Because you're worried the second you let your guard down around Rachel, you'll drop down on one knee and hand over your heart to her. So no, Quinn, I _don't _think it's weird that you were waiting for Rachel Berry to save you, because you've _always _been waiting for Rachel Berry to save you! This is just the first time you've actually asked _why_. _

Quinn jerked out of her seat in blind terror, sending the chair topping over onto the ground. Several people around the blonde gasped. The man beside her jumped out of his chair ready to catch a pale-faced Quinn as she stared unseeing. "Fuck fuck fuck, shit shit shit, damn it damn it damn it!" The blonde whispered in panic as she stood, waves of realization crashing upon.

"Miss? Are you all right?" The man beside her asked. Quinn turned to look at him, not really understand his words or where she was or what was going on.

"No. I'm in love with my fiancé! I am _so_ not all right." The man narrowed his eyes and exchanged questioning glances with his wife. The woman shrugged at the man and nodded for him to press the blonde further.

"Is…there someone you'd like me to call?" The blonde looked around the coffee shop with new eyes and took a tentative step forward. "Miss? Are you okay?" He asked again when Quinn blindly bumped into her table.

"I just need…" And then she passed out. Luckily it didn't take long to rouse her. After the coffee shop gave her another Chamomile tea—free of charge—Quinn stumbled back to the apartment in a daze.

"Hey, watch it!" Was the common thing people had yelled at the blonde after she bumped into them. She had bumped into quite a lot of people. As she walked, Quinn recalled every single interaction with the diva she had had. Explosions of realizations continued to go off in her head the whole way until she found herself standing outside the door to 4D.

Just like the last time, Quinn was hesitant to go inside. The last time she realized her feelings for Rachel, she had nearly slept with the diva and, for all Quinn knew, _had _suffered a concussion.

Everything had changed. And things would only change further. Come Saturday at the party, Rachel would have a diamond ring on her finger. Their physical relationship would only get more intense. Rachel's career was starting to take off. Everything was happening just as the blonde had planned. Except for that small, minor detail that she really was in love with Rachel. _That_ was _never _a part of the plan.


	7. Chapter 7 The Princess Bride

_This chapter is dedicated to Roxystyle because it's her biiiirrrthday. I'm insanely cracked out on Red Bull so that I could finish it in time, so I'm sorry in advance for all the mistakes; there are sure to be more than usual. Thank you for reading and commenting and I hope you enjoy. _

Chapter Seven: The Princess Bride

"'Dearest, Mercedes.' No, Quinn would never say that. 'To whom it may concern.' That's too formal. 'Yo, girl!'… That doesn't read like Quinn." Rachel took a deep breath, placed her fingertips on the keyboard, and thought of hazel eyes. ''Dear, Mercedes…I miss you. I don't talk about you or ever mention your name, but I miss you. Whenever a story comes up and you're in it, I eagerly listen and pretend not to care.

"'I Facebook stalk you. I try and not make it obvious, but sometimes I forget to click out of your page. I've met a friend of a friend and she sort of reminds me of you and I inexplicably like her just because. She's a pale imitation. I dream about you sometimes. It's usually small little things, but in my dreams, we're always just hanging out, forgetting that we're no longer friends. I try to forget my dreams in the morning, but I mumble in my sleep.

"'I have a huge heart but I was never really taught how to be loyal—you've seen my parents. To make matters worse, my pride is astronomical.'" Highlight and delete. "'My pride is huge. I know that sometimes people grow apart or differences in personalities can end friendships. But can we not do that? Can we pretend that we're still the same people we once were and get over all the stuff that strained our friendship?

"'I'm different than I was in high school. I can still close myself off and run away when I'm scared, but I make up for that now. I can be a really great friend. And I need a really great friend in my life. Someone who knows who I once was and sees the changes I've made. Someone that can be loyal back and picks up the phone when I need to vent or just chat about a new song on the radio that I can't stop singing in the shower and think no one can hear.

"'I'm living in New York City. I act like it's not a big deal but I absolutely love just walking amongst the crowds. The energy has changed my stride and I think it's because I'm finally happy; at peace. I want you apart of that. I would love to see you and would be glad if you came to visit. You don't need to call or ask; just stop by. You may not need a friend—you were always really good at making friends—but I do. Think about it.

"'Love, Quinn. PS: I went to an open mike night this weekend and heard a girl sing _I Will Always Love You; _I didn't clap when she was finished because she wasn't as nearly as good as you were at Sectionals. I also frowned throughout the whole performance.'"

X

Lydia and Jeremy sat on their worn-out couch as they blankly watched Quinn move back and forth in front of them. The only reason their eyes watched the anxiety-ridden blonde was because she was wearing out the carpet in front of the TV.

"Last Friday-almost a week to the day," Quinn finally began; up until this point she had been completely silent in her mantra, heatedly pacing. "I realized that I like Rachel, because of you two morons! How lovely for me." Quinn hissed. Jeremy and Lydia's eyes traveled back and forth as the blonde continued pacing. "_Tuesday_," Quinn spit out, her hands balled up into fists. "Not only do I realize that I _love_ her, oh no, that's not enough," Quinn said with a manic laugh. "But that I've loved her for practically the whole time I've know her! Isn't that _spectacular_?" She laughed again without mirth and threw up her arms. "How absolutely fantastic for me!" Lydia and Jeremy both raised an eyebrow as the blonde continued to stew.

"Why's that a bad thing again?" Jeremy asked uncertainly, glancing over at Lydia first, before looking back at Quinn.

"Why is that-why is that a bad thing?" Quinn asked disbelievingly. She halted and turned to the boy slowly, her eyes narrowed and her body leaning forward as though she was ready to pounce. Jeremy shrugged, a little too high to realize that when Quinn Fabray's stature was how it was then, bad things followed.

"Yeah, I mean. Isn't it good that you like your fiancé? I always thought that was a good thing." He said and shrugged again.

Quinn's face got red as she held back her anger. _How could he not understand how-why can't he see that-of course it was bad because-_"It just _is _okay! It's bad! I'm gay now, just great. Cause I needed that. And I love her! How wonderfully clever that I _love_ Rachel Berry! It wasn't enough that I have been her _slave _for the last year and a half, that my pride has been reduced to picking up dog crap and catering to her. Nope, I just _had _to fall in love with her! And now there's all these _feelings _and _emotions _and I _care _if she is happy and I _want _to please her and if she's _not_ happy I'm _sad _all the time and when she's stressed I try to come up with stupid, _stupid _things just to make her laugh and it actually upsets me, can you believe this, it _upsets_ me if I can't!" Quinn laughed again, throwing up her arms in contention.

"All freaking week I've been this, this, this _idiotic…puppy dog! _When I'm not falling off chairs or running into walls I just _stare _at her like I'm waiting for sunbeams to come shooting out of her _face _or something! I can barely _talk _around her now! I'm all like 'um ah, uh, okay Rachel!' like a freaking idiot or, or, or _Sam_! And if I _actually _manage to hold _some _semblance of composure around her, all I can freaking do is _stand there _and watch her goddamn perfect mouth as she yaps away about God-knows what! It's _infuriating!_" Quinn's voice was practically horse from strain. The vein in her neck was bulging as her hazel eyes snapped with fire and her chest heaved. She was straight up screaming. The last time she could remember yelling this much was during her junior year after her fight with Santana. Quinn Fabray wasn't having any of this.

"I find it fascinating that a girl in a sundress can be so terrifying." Jeremy mumbled to Lydia, not taking his eyes off the blonde. Quinn spun away from the pair, her longs curls flicking sharply, as she crossed her arms and shook her head.

"I can't do this," Quinn whispered, shaking her head. "I can't love her. I can't. I won't. It's ridiculous! I'm not, I'm not doing it. Nnnnope!" Lydia and Jeremy continued to watch as Quinn stood there and shook her head. Both of them craned their necks at the sound of knocking on the door.

"Rock, paper, scissors." Lydia mumbled, fist already on top of her palm. Jeremy mirrored the action as they both whispered "rock, paper, scissors, shoot." Which resulted in Jeremy whining as he hopped over the back of the couch, pissed at himself for choosing paper.

Lydia watched as Quinn continued to be submerged in her own little world. It seemed as though the blonde hadn't even heard the knock at the door. "Hello, Jeremy, is Quinn here?" The confident voice of Rachel Berry filtered through the living room from the front door and the blonde's neck snapped around to see the diva standing there, head peeking into the apartment, staring at Quinn.

"I'm sorry I came up, but you said you'd only be a moment and the cab fare was starting to rival my Julliard tuition." Rachel laughed as her eyes darted from Lydia and Jeremy to Quinn.

"No it's fine." Quinn replied with a smile, going straight over to meet Rachel half way and reaching out for the diva's hands to take them within her own. Lydia and Jeremy watched at the blonde's face took on a complete transformation. Her hazel eyes were beaming back at Rachel and she smiled fully. "I'll only be one more minute, okay?" She asked kindly, her thumbs caressing Rachel's hands and she swung their arms back and forth, her eyes scanning the diva's for any sign of discomfort, as she bit her lip to try and hold back her smile.

"Take your time, I'll just be downstairs waiting." Rachel grinned back, only having eyes for the blonde. The air around Lydia and Jeremy seemed to still, the wind cease to blow, and the room crackled with electricity as the two girls just stared at one another.

"Woah." Jeremy mumbled, realizing just how intense Rachel and Quinn's moment was.

But the girls didn't seem as though they had heard him; too caught up in each other—Rachel peeking up at Quinn through her bangs as the blonde blinked slowly, her eyelashes fluttering. Quinn's hands trailed up Rachel's arms slowly, over the round of her shoulders, and up until she was cupping the diva's face. "I'll be right there." Quinn smiled in a whisper, her lips moving even closer to Rachel's.

Rachel was on her tiptoes in a hurry, enthusiastically meeting Quinn's mouth in a frenzy and deeply moaning as she felt Quinn's tongue slid against her own. She clutched at Quinn's yellow sundress and pressed the taller girl into her body while she pleaded with her own to merge with the blonde's. She wanted to be closer to Quinn; she _had _to be closer to her. Just merely being pushed up against the blonde wasn't enough anymore. Quinn felt the same. One soft palm continued to cup Rachel's cheek as the other slid down to take a fist-full of dark hair in her hand. She scrapped her nails against the diva's scalp and fully accepted the moan Rachel expelled in her mouth as she did it. As Rachel sucked on her tongue, Quinn felt her knees weaken and her body shiver with the tempo of her heart beat. She broke out into chills that ranged from freezing cold to steaming hot and all she could do was chase Rachel's tongue with her own and beg her body not to combust on the spot.

Lydia's black Lab, Trevor, pranced out of the back room and took a seat to stare at the two girls. Much like Lydia and Jeremy, his mouth lolled open as he cocked his head. The two girls parted and panted out large gulps of air as they gazed at one another transfixed. "Hurry." Rachel gasped, her hand blindly reaching behind her for the doorknob as she looked up at Quinn.

"I will." The blonde nodded, still slightly out of breath herself. Quinn closed the door behind Rachel, her back to the frame, as she looked around the quiet living room unseeing. Lydia, Jeremy, and Trevor were all staring at the blonde, mouths still open, and waiting for Quinn to speak. But she never did. Not intelligently, at any rate. She just made a lot of frustrated growling and grunting noises, her fists raised in irritation, as she swung her foot to kick the door behind her repeatedly. Words like "stupid," "idiotic," and "puppy dog" stood out. But for the most part, Quinn Fabray just seethed before taking a deep, long breath, straightening herself to her full height, squaring her shoulders, and exiting the apartment.

Quinn found herself doing that a lot throughout the week post-epiphany. She'd bitch and moan about her discovery, vow not to love Rachel, and then quickly be drawn in by the diva. Without fail. Every time. It helped that Rachel was busy with play rehearsals, so the blonde had oodles of time to let her thoughts and feelings fester. While she watched Rachel on stage practicing, while she cooked the different hors d'œuvre, entrees, and desserts for Rachel's surprise party, or while she walked around the city, aimlessly, with her dogs.

It was taking over her life.

She didn't like how busy Rachel had become, the diva would be exhausted by the time she'd get home late at night, but at least Rachel wasn't walking around in only a towel anymore. Although Quinn quite liked the scenery, it was getting very difficult dodging the persistent brunette and even harder to say no. Quinn just wanted to figure it all out before she was underneath a naked Rachel again. She wanted to figure out if it was okay to like her fiancé. If she could handle that.

The blonde was at the elevators, a few feet from Lydia and Jeremy's apartment before another thought occurred to her. She sprinted back to the apartment and ripped open the door to see Lydia and Jeremy staring blankly back at her from the couch.

"I just don't think it's fair that I only realized that I was a big lesbian a few days ago, and now I'm engaged! Engaged! I've heard the jokes, but I didn't think lesbians moved _this _fast!" She slammed the door and jogged back just in time for the elevator doors to slide open. The blonde blew out a deep breath before pushing the button marked G, and paced within the lift as it started to descend.

"There you are. Is everything okay?" Rachel whispered with a smile as she pushed off the stone wall just outside the apartment building's door to greet the blonde. Quinn nodded back, aware that everything around them seemed to stop as they gazed at one another.

"Everything is fine now." Quinn answered breathlessly. Rachel needed to get to rehearsal. The cab had picked them up outside their apartment to take them to the theatre, but the blonde had lied and said she need to talk to Lydia about something dog-walking related and rerouted them to the girl's apartment. She had asked Rachel to wait in the taxi while she vented her feelings over twenty minutes ago. Quinn Fabray had a lot of feelings.

Their joined hands flagged down a cab and they shuffled into the backseat as Rachel told the driver where to go. She rested her head on Quinn's shoulder as she held the blonde's pale hand in her own and watched as her thumb moved over the soft skin. This was the exact position Quinn was in earlier, in a different cab, when her emotions started to take over. It felt so perfect. So safe and exciting. It's why she needed to suddenly vent to Lydia. Quinn had never felt that way before, all at once. It felt right. And that scared the shit out of the blonde.

She was still scared as she held Rachel close to her. It scared her that they were both very much in love, on their way to the theatre for the diva's rehearsal, without a care in the world. What an entirely new feeling for Quinn Fabray. To love and be loved in return. To be happy and content with only greatness before her. What could possibly be more terrifying than having everything you want? It's easy to have nothing left to lose. Quinn was dealing with the realization that she had _everything _to lose. And the world was a fragile place. After all, Quinn would know.

X

"Rachel Berry, a pleasure to see you again."

"Good evening, Christophe. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice."

"Of course, of course. Anything for Julliard's newest star." The man smiled kindly from behind his dark mahogany desk as he pushed up the thin frames of his glasses. Rachel beamed back as she took the seat across from the head of admissions of Julliard and placed a notebook on her lap.

"You're a busy man, so I'll jump right in. Aside from _A Sweetness, _I have some other parts I'm contending with. I was wondering if you could help me with some research. Your expertise would be appreciated." Christophe smiled politely as he steepled his fingers.

"Naturally. Anything I can do to help. What is it that you need?" Rachel paused as she considered her words.

"As an admissions councilor, exactly _what _are you looking for from a potential student? And furthermore, what can one say to garner more fiscal aid?"

"As in…?"

"As in scholarships, grants, financial aid. What I'm looking for exactly, Christophe, is the correct words and phrases a potential student can use to impress an admissions counselor such as yourself." She explained and folded her hands atop her notebook.

Christophe frowned back at Rachel for a moment. "And you say this is for a part?"

Rachel fluffed her skirt nervously and scooted forward in her chair. "Well, yes," She laughed haughtily, "I'm already in the best school in the world. Where else would I want to go? This is, of course, for a part in a very small, independent film, about a young girl who is…dealing with…heroin…and…her mother's…death…and…must…_battle_ the odds by convincing a school to give her another shot, all while…falling in love…with…a…person. A man! And, he's very…smart. And goes to…Harvard! He goes to Harvard! And she wants to go there. And…does. And she does. She gets in because she gives the admissions counselor an interview of a lifetime! So naturally I need some assistance." Rachel mashed her lips together as she stared expectantly back, wishing she had the foresight to have a back-story already in place.

But it had worked. And soon Rachel's hand was flying across the pages of her notebooks as she took copious notes. The very next day, while Quinn was busy at work, Rachel Berry sat on her hands to keep from pacing amongst the small waiting room outside the NYU's business admissions office in the Bronx.

"Ms. Fabray?" Rachel nodded at the smiling secretary and stood. "Ms. Landis will see you now." The diva, already in character, gathered her things and floated towards the office.

She took one deep breath, fixed her wig of blonde hair, patted down her white sundress, and opened the door.

"Ms. Fabray, it's lovely to meet you…"

X

"I want to welcome everyone to the _first_ read through for _A Date a Month!" _The table-full of talent clapped and hooted loudly at Matt's words and despite being exhausted, Rachel managed a bright smile as she peered down the table at her fellow cast members. "Let's get started!" Matt cheered.

Quinn sat beside Rachel, her arm around the diva's back, as the first paged was flipped. Matt took a sip of water and cleared his throat as he read the stage directions and looked over to Rachel to start them off. Rachel smiled as she read Jocelyn's first line out loud and then turned to the girl beside her who would play her on-screen best friend to take the next bit of dialogue. Rachel greedily accepted the mug of green tea with honey from Quinn and focused her efforts on sinking into her latest role. It had been a long day so far, and they had hours to go before the read-through would be over.

As per usual, Rachel had woken up at six am. She quickly worked out and got ready for her day but Quinn didn't bother making breakfast; there was no time. Rachel took a big bite out of her breakfast bar as she raced across the threshold of their apartment with the blonde hot on her heels.

They went directly to the theatre—just as they had done all week long—and Rachel did her vocal warm-ups in the cab ride over as Quinn prepared all of the necessary scenes and musical numbers Rachel would need when they arrived at their destination. Before the taxi even stopped, Rachel hustled out of the car and darted towards the theatre as Quinn grabbed the diva's bag and paid the driver.

With her voice ready, Rachel got on stage and began her stretches as Quinn sat in the audience, knitting on her lap, while Jesse St. James approached the diva. "I've been running scenes in my sleep." He muttered bitterly as he pulled hard on his foot, stretching out his hamstring. "I can't believe we have two weeks until curtain." He shot Stefan a glare then looked around at the other cast members with disdain. "They're not ready." He glowered.

"I'm jealous that you're preparing while you sleep, I only wish _my _subconscious could be so efficient. I need to start working on my time management." Rachel replied as she shook out her limbs. "And they're _not _ready. I'm not entirely sure _any _of us are."

"No, you're great. We both are. We're the leads and we'll carry it." Jesse answered just as Stefan stood in the audience and clapped loudly to get everyone's attention.

"From the top!"

Eighteen numbers, over two dozen run-throughs of complicated dance sequences, and four fast-paced scene rehearsals later and Quinn was whisking Rachel away in a cab to NYU's campus.

Rachel was tired, her throat was sore, she was sick of eating on the go, and her head was swimming. _A Sweetness _wasn't ready and it was stressing her out. Regardless of what Jesse had said, Rachel knew that she could be better, that they _all _could be better, and she only wished that they were going with their initial curtain date.

"Jocelyn enters the restaurant and takes a seat at the bar," Matt read as Rachel sipped on her second cup of tea. Quinn's left hand was draped over the diva's shoulder as she worked on the tight kinks in Rachel's neck and eyed the brunette with concern; Rachel looked beyond tired. "She trades smiles with the bartender and searches around for her date, anxiously, before she takes out her cigarette pack and lights up."

Rachel was lolling her neck to the side, her eyes fluttering closed as Quinn massaged away, but suddenly froze up the same time the blonde's hand faltered. "I'm sorry? I do _what_ now?" Rachel asked as she sat up in her chair, suddenly alert.

Matt was startled by the interruption; up until this point they were racing through the script. He looked around at his crew before back to the diva. "I said you ask the bartender for a shot?"

"No, no, no, before that." She gestured with her wrist and spoke very clearly.

"Uhhhh, you light up a cigarette?"

"Bingo. Um, that's not happening." She stated slowly as she wagged her finger. The people around the long table all shuffled awkwardly in their seats.

"But, Rach…" Matt started, appealing to his friends to help him out with the importance of the cigarette in the scene.

"Matthew, up until this-" Rachel glanced up at Quinn as the blonde shook her head slowly. The diva's brow furrowed, not pleased that Quinn had cut her off with the squeeze to her shoulder, before she turned back to Matt. "Like I was saying, up until this point I feel I have been very accepting of the lines I've been given and the rather racy scenes I'm subjecting myself to. But this, I cannot abide." She stated calmly and glanced around at the other cast mates.

Matt stuttered a little as he tried to follow along. Beside him, Jared spoke up. "But, Rachel, the cigarette is important-"

"The cigarette was not in my original script and I never agreed to risk my voice," Rachel said as she clutched at her throat. "For a small scene in the film. I cannot-_will not_ risk my voice, Jared."

Quickly, Chris, Paul, Matt, and Jared all jumped in to justify the scene. It was only a matter of time before Rachel got out of her chair. "If any of you think for _one _second that I would jeopardize my voice," She began, already striding across the room to make her exit. "That you _sadly _mistaken-" But Rachel was cut off as she hit a wall in the form of Quinn Fabray. "Quinn?" Rachel gasped, surprised to see her fiancé in front of her when only a moment before she was sitting at the table. "Quinn mov-_Quinn_, move!" Rachel said as she stomped her foot and tried to get around the girl.

But Quinn just shook her head slowly as she folded her arms and stood in the diva's way. "_Quinn, _move this instant! You're ruining my storm-out!" Rachel whispered anxiously. Behind her, along the table, her cast mates all stared at the scene quite puzzled. They couldn't hear what the diva was saying but she appeared upset. Only Matt hung his head and bit his lip, knowing _exactly _what Rachel was trying to attempt.

"Listen to me, Rachel. It's only the first read-through," Quinn muttered as she flicked her gaze over at the awaiting cast and crew. "Go back and do the scenes and when we're done for the night I'll talk to Matt."

"But what if-"

"Right now no one knows what is going on; you could just be taking a bathroom break. Do your job and let _me _be the diva _for_ you." Quinn mumbled pleadingly. Rachel looked up at the blonde, a little bewildered, but relaxed her posture.

"What do you mean?" She asked slowly, folding her arms as she waited.

"What I mean is, it is now _my _job to defend you. You're absolutely right, I'm not risking you hurting your voice or getting sick just for one small scene. I'll talk to Matt and Jared about it when we're done and I guarantee the scene will be cut." Rachel's eyebrow rose at the determination in the blonde's voice. No one had ever stood up for Rachel like this before and it was almost a relief that Quinn was taking the reins.

"You'd really do that for me?" Rachel asked in a small, quiet voice. The diva watched as Quinn's features softened.

"Of course, Rach." Now it was Quinn's turn to be slightly confused. "Why wouldn't I?" Rachel contemplated that momentarily before she took a deep breath, ruffling her bangs slightly, and turned around with a bright smile.

"Please carry on without me; I will only be a moment as I make a quick trip to the ladies' room. Too much tea." She finished with a chuckle, pleased that the others at the table laughed along in understanding. Rachel gave Quinn a wink before she slipped by the smiling blonde and made her way to the restroom; she really did have to go.

Three hours later Quinn waited as the other cast and crew grinned and yawned as they shuffled out of the small classroom they had just rehearsed in, ready to go home and go to bed. She waited until Zach—the male lead—finished going over notes with Matt and Jared and smiled at Quinn as he stood to leave.

"Can I speak with you both, please?" Quinn asked as she leaned back in her seat, her arm draped over the back of Rachel's chair, as she eyed them both. They diva was across the room, speaking to Gloria—her character's best friend in the movie—but glancing over the girl's shoulder periodically to watch Quinn.

"Sure, Quinn, what's up?" Matt asked with a smile. Both he and Jared were seated in the middle of the long table while the blonde took up residency at the head. Matt instantly knew that he wasn't going to like whatever Quinn was about to say. He could tell by her casual posture that she was luring him into a false sense of security and her demeanor spoke of the head cheerleader she once was.

"Why is the scene important, Matt?" Quinn asked as she inspected her nails. _Oh, shit_. Matt thought as he glanced down at the table.

He took a deep breath and stared at his script. "Because it shows that Jocelyn is anxious. That she's not acting like herself." Matt stated, more in a whisper than he would have liked.

"And she can't be…biting her nails? Drinking multiple shots of alcohol to prove that point? Hmm? Eyes darting around the bar frantically? No?" Jared looked over at the silent Matt and waited for him to say something. _He _certainly didn't want to go against Quinn; she scared him!

"I…uh…"

"Let me break it down for ya, Matt." Quinn said as she shifted in her chair until one leg was crossed over the other and she was resting her chin on her fist. "Rachel, she's in an off Broadway show. Its curtain goes up in less than two weeks. Her voice is more important than her organs. She doesn't need a liver when she sings like she does. You've heard her voice, Matt. Is it any good?"

Matt cleared his voice and mumbled. "What was that, Matt, didn't quite catch it?"

"I said it's amazing." Matt spoke up slightly as his face tinted red.

"How about you, Jared. Do _you _think smoking a cigarette is really important? Can't she just do one of the other tells I mentioned?"

Jared's eyes shifted around as he bit his lip. "I…uh…I guess she could."

"Of course she could, boys." Quinn smiled brightly as she slapped the table. "It will be just as effective and it won't strain her vocal cords. It's win, win for all. Glad ya saw it my way." Quinn dismissed as she got out of her chair and took three long strides over to where Rachel was still chatting with Gloria. "Come on, R, let's roll." Quinn said as she hoisted Rachel's bag over her shoulder and strode out of the classroom.

Rachel squeaked and quickly waved to Gloria before running to catch up to the blonde. "Did you talk to them? What happened, Quinn?" Rachel asked as the blonde slapped her palms against the doors towards the outside world.

"I talked to them," Quinn began before whistling loudly getting a taxi to slam to a stop right in front of her. "As for what happened…I Sylvestered them. Now get in the cab, sweet cheeks." Quinn smirked as she tossed Rachel's bag into the back seat and gestured for Rachel to get inside.

Rachel smiled brightly, her arms behind her back, as she stood on her tiptoes and pecked Quinn's lips. "My hero." It was well after eleven o'clock at night. But that didn't stop Quinn from sliding her sunglasses on with a flourish, her smug grin still in place, before she got into the back seat and barked the directions out to the driver.

X

"It was exciting." The blonde whispered with a smile. "It was…_fun._" Rachel smiled back and scooted closer towards Quinn.

"I bet you were amazing." Rachel gushed with a grin of her own.

"I was." Quinn answered with a chuckle. "You can love her or hate her but Sue Sylvester knew what she was doing." The blonde breathed out softly. "She was the best teacher I ever had. Watching her, studying her like I did for four years…she knew how to get what she wanted."

Rachel smiled as she slid her leg in between Quinn's. "She did have a way with people, just like you." Quinn's eyebrow rose.

"You think I have a way with people?"

"Jesse certainly thinks so. He told me about you threatening him." Rachel smiled as Quinn ducked her head. The blonde looked up, licked her lips, and gazed at the diva.

"He deserved that." Rachel shrugged as she brushed a blonde hair behind Quinn's ear.

"Probably."

"I'm sorry, you're tired. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"No!" Rachel said as she shook her head. "You're excited. And you should be. You've found something that you love. We're always talking about what I love and I think you should get a turn."

Quinn smiled softly, her eyes shining with excitement. "I did really like it." She admitted as she bit her lip to hide the fun she had had. "It was just…I don't know…like, I was meant to do it."

"I completely agree. You're forceful and you can pick up on trends. You know people and you have taste. You'd be great." Rachel gushed again, loving the idea. "Do you know what you want to concentrate on?"

Quinn rolled her head onto her pillow and stared at the cracked ceiling before looking back at Rachel. They were sharing the same pillow, the same space. Rachel's arm was slung over the blonde's hip and Quinn's fingers ran through the diva's hair as she thought. "I don't know, honestly. I don't know much about the industry." She bit her lip again. "Maybe a manager?" She said with a shrug. "An agent or a publicist?"

Rachel nodded her head eagerly. "Which one are you agreeing to?" Quinn asked with a laugh.

"All of them!" Quinn laughed again and pressed her body closer to Rachel's.

"I'll have to go to school." The blonde started, already seeing a problem. Perhaps if she still had her savings she could think about college. But her savings was currently hidden in a Tupperware container inside the tank of the toilet until the time was right.

"We'll figure something out." Rachel soothed as she attempted to move even closer to the blonde. "Maybe this weekend we can do a little research?" Rachel asked, her eyes closed as she rested on top of Quinn's chest.

"Hmmm, this weekend huh? Let me think, let me think. What _am _I doing this weekend?" The blonde asked playfully as Rachel grinned. "Nope. Can't think of a thing going on this weekend of any importance. No birthdays or the whatnot."

The diva slapped Quinn's stomach, getting the blonde to laugh. "You better keep quiet, Quinn Fabray, or I'll start looking for other representation." Suddenly Quinn stopped laughing as she glanced down at Rachel.

"Does that mean…?"

"Oh most definitely." Rachel finished as she sat up on her elbow and peered down at the blonde. She squinted and cocked her head as she tapped her chin. "Let's see. You gave me the perfect song choice and monologue that landed me the role in _A Sweetness_. Found the perfect script and got me the role in _A Date a Month-"_

"Tentative title." Both girls said at the same time before they laughed softly.

"And you prevented a major diva storm-off today, yet, managed to protect me _and _my reputation. I'd say you're hired."

Quinn smiled up at Rachel as her thumb caressed the diva's bottom lip. "Hired, huh? But as your manager, agent, or publicist?" Quinn asked with a smile.

"Yep." Rachel answered as she went back down to rest on Quinn's shaking stomach. Once the blonde's laughter was only a once and a while chuckle, she spoke.

"You trust me with your career?" She asked softly, slightly awed.

"I trust you with more than that, Quinn." Rachel breathed out as her eyes slid closed. She was still scared. She was more than petrified with allowing herself to fall for Rachel. But as she heard her fiancé's breathing even out as she lay on the blonde, Quinn knew that it no longer mattered. Rachel loved her, so she would let herself love Rachel back. Fully. And all at once, the fear stopped.

X

"No, no, no!" Quinn shouted as she raised her arms to halt all movement. "The tables go _there_, the dance floor is _here, _and the stage _must _be set up in _front_! Have you _never _planned a party before? Is this, like, your first time in the real world?" The blonde yelled before she turned on the spot and hurried over to the two men in the corner.

"I'm so sorry about that," She apologized as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's been like this all day and I'm starting to worry that this place isn't going to be Rachel-ready in time for tonight." Both of Rachel's fathers grinned at the blonde's words.

They had been at the large empty hall for almost a half hour and they were completely content with just watching Quinn work. As she spoke to the party planner, she gestured frequently, tapped her toe, huffed a great deal, and crossed her arms against her chest to show her displeasure. They were both thrilled that someone in this world, someone who seemed like a beautiful, bright, charismatic woman knew and used the phrase "Rachel-ready." Quinn was perfect for their little girl. And Rachel was perfect for Quinn.

"Well please tell us what we can do." Rachel's dad spoke up as he adjusted his glasses.

"Well I have Jeremy and a few of his friends taking care of all the tables and chairs. Jen and some of Rachel's Julliard friends are stopping by to pick up all the food from the apartment to bring it over here." Quinn blew out a breath as she continued to count each thing off her fingers. "Matt is supplying a band, but I have karaoke during the band's breaks. And the rest of the crew from the movie is bringing a few decorations that the party planner isn't providing. What I _need _is to keep Rachel off my scent. And for someone with _half a brain_," Quinn yelled over her shoulder to alert the party planning crew. "Is for someone to set up the karaoke machine."

"Well I can certainly set that up." Rachel's dad said.

"And I'd be happy to keep Rachel occupied." Rachel's daddy added.

"That would be amazing. She thinks I'm dog walking but I know she's suspicious. This is Rachel after all. Last year she knew I was taking her to the _Cats _revival a month before _I_ did. She definitely knows something is up."

"Well that's our Rachel." The taller man smiled. Quinn liked the sound of that.

"Anyway. Everyone will be arriving shortly so I just need to finish getting ready." The Berry men nodded and went immediately to work. "Let's just hope everything goes smoothly." Quinn mumbled to herself.

Two hours in and so far the blonde's wish had come true. Quinn leaned back against a pillar as her eyes flicked around the scene. Julliard students mingled with _A Sweetness _and _A Date a Month _cast mates with a few of Lydia and Jeremy's friends mixed in. The Berry men munched on hors d'œuvres and spoke in a corner and bobbed their heads to the music away from the younger kids. And the guest of honor was filtering in an out of the different groups of people as she beamed and radiated her joy. She knew that Quinn was up to something all week, but she never imagined this.

At times, Rachel would just stand back and stare at all of the people that were eagerly there for her to celebrate her birthday and her success. She was overwhelmed with the happiness she felt and couldn't believe that it was all happening to her.

Quinn was playing the part of the perfect host. She refilled the food when it got low, made sure everyone had drinks and had enough to eat, made sure the band played Rachel's favorite songs, and smiled and chatted with all of Rachel's friends. It wasn't even ten o'clock and she was already exhausted. But the night wasn't over.

"I think you forgot to invite me." Quinn glanced over her shoulder before turning back to watch Rachel on the dance floor with Jen; laughing and talking as they moved to the music.

"I'm sorry about that." The blonde smiled brightly in a tone she had always used when she meant the complete opposite of what she said. She and Jesse St. James were in identical stances; their arms crossed, one ankle over the other, as they leaned against a column and observed Rachel.

"She's having a great time." Jesse looked at Quinn but didn't get an answer. "You _do _realize she asked me to make you jealous, right? That was _her _doing?" Quinn chuckled softly and shook her head. _Of course she did. That is so Rachel. _"I'm not a bad guy, you could have invited me."

"Yes you are." Quinn answered back conversationally and then smiled as she saw Rachel laugh.

"Well I'm not a _good _guy, but I'm not a bad guy either." Jesse grumbled haughtily. Quinn weighed that out but remained quiet. "I'm nervous about _A Sweetness." _He said loudly to be heard over the music. "It's rushed. It's not going to be as good as it could have been."

"I agree." Quinn answered back, her eyes still on Rachel.

"What do you suggest?"

Quinn thought about that for a moment before she pushed off the column. "A better agent."

"What is your problem with me, Fabray?" Jesse asked as he cut in front of her and folded his arms across his chest, wearing a smug smile.

"You could be a saint. You're not, but you could be." Quinn explained, her gaze over his shoulder as she watched Jeremy spin the laughing diva around the dance floor a few times. "The fact of the matter is, St. James, it doesn't matter _who _you are, what matters is that you've kissed my fiancé. It could have been yesterday or a decade ago and it doesn't change the fact that I get to hate you because of it. I was there they day she contemplated giving you her virginity. I had to feel the nausea wash over me when she talked about how erotic it was kissing you. I think about that and I want to puke. So forgive me if I'm not sweet as pie, but I look at you and all I can remember is the overwhelming urge to vomit so much I was worried about throwing up my baby."

"You've liked Rachel for that long?" Jesse asked in disbelief. For the first time, Quinn's eyes flickered to Jesse's. The music's tempo change to a much faster song and the blonde contemplated answering honestly.

"Let's just say that what I felt for Rachel happened long before you wormed you way into _New Directions_." Quinn went to go join Rachel on the dance floor but stopped and turned back to the boy. "As for _A Sweetness_, I'm working on it." Quinn answered before she set off to retrieve Rachel from Jeremy's clutches. Jesse watched the blonde go and considered what she had just said. It felt odd to the boy that he felt some comfort in her statement.

As the night wore on, the food demolished, the band exhausted, and party-goers starting to leave, Rachel had convinced Quinn that they _had _to do a duet on stage. Surprisingly, Rachel had avoided karaoke up until this point; she was resting her voice. But the two glasses of wine had caught up to her and now the only thing that mattered was singing with Quinn.

"But we _never _sang together in high school." Rachel pleaded with a pout as the crowd on the dance floor cheered and clapped in anticipation of the duet.

"_Rachel_," Quinn whined, not appreciating the spotlight on her. "I really don't want to." The diva's bottom lip jutted out as she stared imploringly up at the blonde.

"But it's my birthday!" Quinn laughed and covered her face out of embarrassment as Rachel started to get the crowd involved, having them chant the blonde's name to help convince her.

"Fine! But only because it's your birthday! And you owe me!" Rachel squealed as she made her song selection and took the mike.

"I'll go first if you don't mind." Rachel said to the blonde with a smirk as she flung the cord to her microphone out of the way.

"Didn't figure otherwise. Be my guest." Quinn gestured with her arm, a wide sweeping motion to give Rachel the stage. As the opening notes started, Quinn rolled her eyes and shook her head. Rachel had regularly sung the song to the blonde while they were together inside their apartment throughout the past year. Sometimes Quinn would even join in if she was in the right mood.

"The way you wear your hat," Rachel began, her bright eyes on Quinn. "The way you sip your tea," The audience hooted and hollered and Quinn blushed from the attention. Rachel got closer as she sang; wanting Quinn to know that she was only singing this for the blonde. It was rare, but the diva wasn't doing this for the crowd; only for Quinn. The party had been something Rachel had never expected and often throughout the night she'd just look around and marvel that it was all for her.

Rachel didn't just pick the song because one random Sunday it was playing on the radio and the diva did what she always did and sang along, thus, sparking a tradition. No, she sang it because of the words. "They way you changed my life," sticking out more than all the others. Although the song didn't fit them perfectly, that line was so important to Rachel, so meaningful, especially at that time, that moment, she couldn't think of another song that would be better. The fact that it meant something to the two of them only made the choice that much easier.

"The way you sing off key," Rachel smirked as she sang the line to Quinn, getting the blonde's mouth to open wide in indignation before she laughed. "The way you _make _my dreams," Rachel sang, purposefully changing the line as she pulled the blonde close and wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck. "No, no, they can't take that away from me."

X

Quinn found Rachel in the corner discussing the movie with Matt and Jared. The party was officially over, but the threesome were excitedly going over song choices for scenes and Quinn knew that a certain amount of dragging and pushing was about to take place. "But, Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed as the blonde led the diva out to the awaiting cab the girl's fathers were already in. "Matt played me the song and it's just _soooo _perfect in its intensity. Just the right about of angst paired with beautiful lyrics and soul-aching passion that I really think it's perfect!" Rachel stated from the backseat in between her fathers as Quinn gave the driver directions from the front.

"I never heard of it." Quinn answered back, turning slightly in her seat to stare at an enthusiastic Rachel.

"Awww, Quinn, it's gorgeous. She's completely underground and the only reason I heard the song was because Matt played it for me. As soon as I get home I'm buying it off iTunes. Dovelyn Schutt has already agreed to give us the song for the film and Matt knows the perfect place for it!" Rachel was too busy going on about the song that she wasn't paying attention to where they were headed. "_Nightmare _speaks of the emotional heart-ship one goes through when dealing with the industry, but I think that it's tone fits the film's-" Rachel abruptly stopped rambling as the cab driver parked the car down an alleyway.

"Where are we?" Beside her, Rachel's fathers looked just as confused but Quinn paid the driver and slipped out of the car before opening the back door.

"Come with me?" Quinn asked as she held out her shaking hand. Rachel knew a surprise was coming and gasped loudly before she shoved her daddy out of the backseat and accepted Quinn's offered hand. "I'm covering your eyes, okay birthday girl?" Quinn giggle as Rachel jumped up and down and squealed.

The blonde lead the three Berrys around the corner as held her finger to her lips to warn Rachel's fathers not to make a sound. They both nodded enthusiastically but they turned slack-jawed when they saw the blonde's surprise.

Quinn covered Rachel's eyes tightly as she bent down so that her lips were beside the diva's ear. "Happy birthday, Rachel." She whispered as she pulled her hands away. She heard Rachel's gasp and watched as she lit up in wonder and surprise and Quinn smiled softly at the sight.

Rachel's eyes immediately started to water as she looked up at the theatre where _A Sweetness _would debut. The diva's covered her mouth in shock as tears rapidly fell. She turned into Quinn's body and quietly sobbed, her eyes never leaving the theater's marquee.

Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn saw Rachel's fathers silently crying as well but both wearing proud smiles. The blonde didn't need to ask if her fiancé was okay, she knew she was. Rachel just needed a moment to take it all in.

"How did you do this?" Rachel asked, a mix between a laugh and a sob, as she glanced up at Quinn.

"I talked to Stefan." Quinn whispered back as she squeezed the diva's arm. The blonde smiled as she took out the camera from her purse. "Go ahead, I want a picture." Rachel covered her eyes as she bent over slightly, coming back up and removing her hands to reveal the biggest smile Quinn had ever seen. "Go ahead, superstar." The blonde nodded.

Rachel jumped a little and danced over towards the theatre until she was directly under the marquee. "Sayyyyy, Broadway!"

"Broadway!" Rachel shouted as she posed, both arms held out high above her head as tears continued to make their way down her cheeks.

"I want to take one with the two of you together." Rachel's dad laughed, crying as well. Quinn ran over to Rachel's side and allowed herself to be swept up in the diva's arms. She looked down to see Rachel staring up at her in awe.

"This," Rachel sighed, glanced up at the marquee, and then looked back up at Quinn. "This is the best birthday present ever." Quinn wiped away her tears and softly kissed the diva.

"I'm glad." Rachel squealed loudly, getting Quinn to laugh, as they posed for several more pictures; the near-still sounds of cars honking and driving while bright lights made the cold stand out in sharp relief, perfecting the mood.

"You two next." Quinn directed as she disentangled herself from Rachel's arms to take the camera back. The Berry men raced over to their daughter's side and engulfed her in teary hugs as Quinn raised the camera.

Before she took the picture, she paused and just stared at the scene; she had never seen Rachel so completely happy before. There she stood, in her fathers' arms, smiling with tears still falling, under the shinning white bulbs of the marquee that read: _A Sweetness, _starring Rachel Berry. There really was no other way that Quinn could do this. This was for Rachel, for them, for her fathers too. She wanted to create the perfect memory; and this was it.

Quinn cleared her suddenly dry throat and shook off her own tears as she held the camera still. "Saaaaaay, _A Sweetness!" _The three Berrys repeated the phrase and Quinn took several more as they continued to pose; hamming it up.

The doors of the theatre opened and an usher came outside with a broom and dustpan in his hands. "Excuse me!" Quinn shouted. "Can you take a picture of us?" Quinn handed him the camera along with something else and usher looked at her quizzically. "Just keep taking pictures until I tell you to stop, okay?" Quinn asked, her eyes pleading as she held his stare.

The usher complied, stuffed the twenty dollar bill Quinn had just passed him into his pocket, and the foursome threw their arms around each other and posed as the camera flashed. The guy didn't seem to have a problem with taking multiple pictures and only stopped when someone would walk by.

Quinn's heart was hammering away so quickly she felt lightheaded. She returned Rachel's beaming smile—a smile that rivaled out-illuminating the bright lights of the marquee—and took a shaky breath that curled and puffed white around her before she sought the next phase of the plan.

"Excuse me, miss?" Quinn called out to the woman in the fur coat who was standing with her husband, glancing up at the marquee. The usher continued to snap pictures despite the fact that all three Berrys were wondering what Quinn was up to. "This is Rachel Berry!" She said, pointing down to the diva.

The woman and her husband looked very impressed as they approached. "She'll be starring in _A Sweetness _in only a little over week." Quinn went on, even though Rachel was beat red beside her.

"That's lovely, dear." The woman gushed.

"_Quinn." _Rachel mumbled, clearly embarrassed but soaking up the praise nonetheless.

"Can I have your autograph, dear?" The woman asked kindly, already taking out a slip of paper and pen from her purse. Rachel's wide, tear-filled eyes shot up to look at Quinn as she froze; she was staggered. Quinn elbowed the diva, ignoring her tears that mirrored Rachel's and chuckled.

"Come on, Rach, the woman wants your autograph." Rachel stumbled forward, shaking so noticeably that Quinn immediately darted forward to hold her upright just in case. The camera's flash continued to go off as Rachel accepted the pen from the woman. Her face was so pale and astonished that she couldn't even return the woman's smile.

Rachel's fathers continued to cry, both holding their hands over their hearts as they witnessed their daughter's biggest dream come true. "Jonas, honey, get the camera! I want a picture with Rachel Berry!" Rachel trembled as she stared down at her shaky scrawl. It didn't even look like the signature that she had been practicing for years, but she gave the woman a smile that spoke of her awe.

She was having a complete out of body experience. The usher was now joined by the woman's husband and a few tourists—not knowing who Rachel was, but drawn to the group who were posing for pictures and quickly told about the up and coming star.

"Can I have your autograph?" A young teen requested, holding out a playbill to Rachel along with a pen; her two friends beside her holding out something for the diva to sign as well.

Soon, Rachel was being surrounded by people. All asking her to sign something and pose for pictures. She knew that she should be smiling for the camera but she couldn't take her eyes off Quinn. Quinn had done this. She had known that giving her first autograph would mean the world to her. Quinn knew that seeing her name on a marquee was something that she had wanted her entire life. She had set it all up, on Rachel's birthday, with the diva's fathers present, all for Rachel.

"Can you make it out to Mary?" One girl asked as she stuffed a piece of paper into Rachel's left hand as the cameras continued to flash and a group of people watched on.

"Use this." Quinn said, sliding a book she had in her purse underneath the paper to make it easier for Rachel to sign. Rachel stuttered her thank you, not even able to speak properly she was so shocked and overwhelmed. She felt the blonde's hand on her own, together supporting the book, and tried to focus solely on the feel Quinn to keep her steady and concentrating keenly to make her signature legible. She wrote out her name and handed the paper back to Mary before accepting something else to sign.

"Can you make this one out to Quinn?" The blonde mumbled in Rachel's ear. She was standing just behind the diva, practically holding her up, her right arm around Rachel's waist with her left hand still cupping Rachel's underneath the book.

Rachel nodded dumbly, just managing a smile, as she lifted her hand to sign Quinn's paper. "To the woman I love more than anything." Quinn read in a whisper as Rachel's trembling hand wrote. Rachel took a deep breath, still aware of the cameras and crowds as she tried to write through her blurry vision; her tears coming so quickly now she couldn't wipe them away fast enough.

Suddenly she froze. Her mouth fell open and she ignored the flashes and people calling out her name. She had felt Quinn's hand discretely move and then the sliding of the cold metal against her finger and the weight that it brought.

Rachel's wide eyes looked up at Quinn as the book tumbled out of her hands. No one around them seemed to mind. They all just kept ducking in and out of the pictures as Rachel stared up at Quinn, frozen, mesmerized, tears cascading; the realization of what Quinn had just done dawning on her.

Quinn lowered her forehead to Rachel's as she gazed desperately at the stunned girl. Their tears mixed as their eyes closed and just stood there, touching, as the world around them moved at the pace of a New York minute. Quinn felt Rachel nod against her, a sob the only thing the brunette could manage to communicate, and just like that they were holding each other.

Slowly the crowds started to leave, some still interested as to why the newest lead in the newest Broadway gossip-grapevine was clutching another woman as they both cried. But eventually it was only the Berry men…and Quinn and Rachel.

X

The next two weeks passed in a haze of rehearsals, rehearsals, and more rehearsals. Quinn had hired Jeremy to take over her walks so that all her time could be spent helping Rachel whenever the diva needed it.

Ever since the diva's birthday, Quinn had stuck to Rachel even more closely than usual. And not just because the diamond ring cemented their futures together, but because Rachel was a mass of nerves and stress to the point where Quinn was worried. But, surprisingly, on opening night, it was a blonde head of hair that was hanging over the toilet as she released her anxiety.

"Honestly, Quinn, if we don't leave right this moment I won't have the proper amount of time to prepare!" Rachel pleaded in the doorway as Quinn heaved over the toilet again.

Quinn held up a finger indicating that she would only be another minute and Rachel huffed and went to triple-check that everything she would need was packed by the door. They were just about done shooting _A Date a Month_ and only had a few more scenes to go, the curtain on _A Sweetness _would go up in only six short hours whether the cast and crew was ready or not, and another film had been heaved onto Rachel's already stacked plate despite both of their anxiety.

Chris, Matt's friend and crew member on the _A Date a Month_, had gotten on his hands and knees and begged Quinn with clasped hands for Rachel to help him out. He was producing another film he was hoping to submit into _Sundance _and his supporting actress had to drop out at the last minute. The blonde said no, repeatedly, seriously worried about Rachel's health—she was hardly sleeping—but finally consented to at least reading the script before she gave her final no.

_Which of You, I Love, _was a dark drama about a therapist who had fallen in love with his patient. The young woman had multiple personalities and he was in love with the darkest of them all—Rachel's potential character. Well it was Rachel's potential character until Quinn read the script. It was _Sundance _material, all right. But Quinn still refused; Rachel had enough to deal with.

But the diva had heard Chris's plight and looked to Quinn pleadingly. "NO!" Quinn had shouted. Rachel pulled the blonde aside.

"Is it good?"

"Yes, but-"

"If I wasn't working, would you suggest I be in it?"

"Yes, but-"

"Do you want me to do it?"

"No! You have _enough_!"

"I'll do it." Rachel told Chris.

This was actually why Quinn was leaning over the toilet on Rachel's big night. She had constant nightmares that Rachel would be on stage and suddenly start reciting lines from one of the two other parts she was playing. She could hardly stand the nerves.

Rachel smiled, amused, as she watched her fiancé brush her teeth for the second time and splash cold water on her face. She wanted to be annoyed but Rachel almost didn't care if they were running behind schedule because Quinn was adorable for being so nervous. So she just dragged the blonde out of the bathroom, finally, and held the pale, shaking girl up as they left the apartment.

Backstage was a frenzy of emotions and confusion. Poor Dean was mumbling his lines outside the bathroom and looked seasick. Jesse was completely relaxed in his dressing room, buffing his nails, and considering where they should go after their opening performance. Rachel was rotating her neck lightly as she did her vocal warm-ups and stretched. Quinn was pacing the floor and snapping at anyone who disturbed Rachel.

No one was surprised when the blonde joined the power-circle moments before curtain was about to go up. Stefan led the performers' prayer and begged them all to give it their all and for Dean not to step on anyone's cues. Rachel took a moment out from getting centered to glance at her cast mates; everyone besides Jesse looked as though they were ready to pee their pants. The only thing that kept her focused was the way Quinn was biting her lip; she wanted to make the blonde proud.

It went okay. Just…okay. It wasn't as fluid as the diva had hopped and the other performers were definitely lacking, but she and Jesse were dynamic together. Rachel _knew _they stole every scene and when they were on stage at the same time, the crowd woke up and paid attention.

She didn't know where her fathers were sitting, and for that she was grateful, but Rachel was very aware of the fact that Quinn was standing offstage next to Stefan, both of them gnawing on their thumb nails as they looked on. She felt a sense of power knowing that Quinn was watching her. She used the strength she gained from the blonde's hazel eyes to propel her performance further. That, and constantly throughout her performance, Rachel would touch the lump that protruded underneath her costume—her engagement ring—and imagined every line she said for Quinn's ears only. It made for one hell of a performance.

The cast and crew busted through the doors of the bar across the street in a hurry. Although the audience applauded and stuck around to meet the actors, everyone knew that New York's newest darling wasn't exactly curtain-ready. Stefan had done his best to boost morale but really what everyone needed was a drink. And a day off. Especially Rachel.

They still had two more performances before that could happen, however. The diva would salivate every time she thought of Monday.

"We'll take six shots of tequila and six beers." Jesse grumbled as he threw down his money for the bartender. "What a joke. I swear Dean _meant _to step on my foot at the end of act two."

"I can't believe Selma forgot the words to her solo. Honestly, her _solo!_"

"How could Greg not remember to bring out my newsboy hat at the beginning of the second scene? We went over that, at least, a dozen times!"

"Trevor went flat. I don't care that he's only in the chorus, he went flat just as I began my emotional climax! At the _climax_, Quinn, the _climax!_"

"I'm almost positive that Joshua referred to himself by his character's wife's name. He tried to play it off, but I heard him."

Quinn just smiled as Jesse and Rachel went back and forth. She had her elbows on the bar as she glanced around the bustling restaurant and breathed out a sigh of relief. The play had not been good. But Rachel had been spectacular. It was almost as though she was making up for all the others. She even had to admit that Jesse's performance was almost as good as the diva's. He didn't have as much heart as Rachel, it showed, but he was extremely talented. The moral of the story for Quinn: she didn't have to worry; Rachel wouldn't stay _off_ Broadway for long.

"And that saxophone!" Rachel exclaimed as she covered her face. "Its pitch was horrendous!"

"I was more concerned with the fact that Daniel ran into a wall during the speakeasy number and OH MY, GOD IS THAT AINSLEY SWAINE?" Jesse suddenly shrieked, getting Quinn to raise an eyebrow at the boy mockingly.

"Who?" Quinn went to trade rolling eyes with Rachel to convey how annoying Jesse can be, but to her surprise, Rachel's eyes were just as wide as Jesse's and the diva looked as though she was panting. "I'm sorry, _who?_" Quinn repeated again, not at all enjoying the fixed expression on her fiancé's face.

"Ainsley Swaine!" Rachel filled in breathlessly as her back slammed into the bar. She didn't seem to have noticed that it should have hurt. Instead, she just kept her eyes glued to the white-haired man that stood across the room beside a woman; the kind of woman you can tell used to be a knock-out in her twenties, and aged graciously into her sixties. Rachel always thought Quinn would be that kind of woman. "He's a big, _big _Broadway supporter. Millionaire-"

"Many times over." Jesse helped. "Who spends his days watching shows and throwing money whenever he's impressed."

"Oh my, God, Quinn! You don't think he saw the show, do you?" Rachel muttered, transfixed as she stared at the man. The blonde finally saw the appeal. Apparently this Ainsley had money, influence, and a passion for the stage. She had to get Rachel in front of him.

"I have to meet him, Quinn." Rachel pleaded as she glanced up at the blonde. "I'm going over there." The diva said with a resigned nod. "I'll introduce myself, shake his hand, and belt out a number to impress him along with my vast talent and determination. I'll describe to him how music makes me feel, how I've gone through so many trials in my day, how-"

Quinn yanked on the back of Rachel's shirt to prevent the diva from finishing her trek. If that was Rachel's pitch, Quinn wasn't letting her go anywhere. "Quinn! What are you doing?"

"Wait a second, Rach." Quinn said as she laid her hands on the diva's shoulders. "Let's talk this out first."

"While you ladies are doing that, I'm going to go buy Ainsley a scotch. Talk to him about my range, my attributes, my know-how. It will only be a matter of time before-" With one hand retraining Rachel and the other curled around the fabric of Jesse's sports coat, Quinn closed her eyes and prayed for the strength to keep her divas in check. "Quinn, let me go this instant!" Jesse snapped.

"Quinn!" Rachel whined as she watched Ainsley move to the bar along with the woman at his side. "Please, he's getting away!"

"Getting away-?" Quinn huffed as she let both Rachel and Jesse go and stood in front of them. "Fine. I'll let you go." They both jumped and banged into one another as they tried to fit through the crowded bar. Quinn was immediately pulling them both back until she was standing in their way yet again. "But _first_," The blonde stated, holding up her finger. "I want to hear your pitch." She folded her arms across her chest as Rachel and Jesse rushed out their opening lines.

"Good evening Mr. Swaine, I'm such a huge fan…"

"…I've been following your career since I was a little…"

"…You have no idea how much it means to me that you're here…"

"…Would love to sing you an inspiration song about…"

"…And I vehemently feel as though we are kindred souls…"

"…Can't express enough the effort and talent that I possess…"

"ENOUGH!" Quinn yelled over the din, getting both Rachel and Jesse to shut up at once. She looked at one and then the other—they were staring over Quinn's shoulders at the man with crazy eyes and salivating mouths—before snapping her fingers in their faces. She turned to Rachel first. "Rachel, honey, you're ridiculously talented." The diva broke out into a wide grin as she ducked her head. "But, sweetheart, you will _terrify_ the man if you say those things to him." Rachel's brow furrowed as she pouted while Jesse smirked.

Quinn turned to him next. "Jesse, I literally can't express enough how you annoy me,"

"Hey!"

"But if you pitch him like that, he'll take over my position of the Jesse St. James hate club." The boy frowned further. "And I can't have that. So instead of watching you two scare him away, can I make a suggestion?"

"Of course, Quinn."

"I'm not too fond of you either, Fabray."

"He's here, at a bar, with a woman I can only assume he's dating, trying to have a nice time. If the two of you, or even just one of you, goes over there and bombards him, it's going to put him off."

"You are absolutely right, Quinn. You are a genius and I love you now tell me what I need to do to get over there and talk to Ainsley Swaine!" The crazy eyes were back.

"First you need to start breathing again and I wouldn't be upset with you if you blinked every once and a while." Quinn stated slowly. Rachel nodded her head, her eyes still wide, and listened. "Jesse," She started, turning back to the boy. "You should probably not say anything to him or else he may be able to pick up on the fact that you are soulless. So just stay here." Jesse rolled his eyes and sipped his beer.

"What are you going to do, Quinn?" The blonde thought about that for a moment before she observed the woman Ainsley was with. Her short, wavy red hair was stylishly cut. Her makeup perfect. Her outfit was Helen Mirren-esque and tailor-made for her body.

"I'm going to get us an in." Quinn breathed out as she turned and cut through the bar as though she owned it. She stood right next to Ainsley's date and eavesdropped on their conversation. It was obvious that Ainsley adored the woman just by the way he was dotting over her.

"But, darling, we don't have to stay out late. Whatever _you _want to do-"

"Ainsley," The redhead spoke firmly as she smiled at him. "What have I said to about this? If I say it's okay, it's okay. Stop fretting." Quinn smiled down at the bar before she got the bartender's attention. She ordered a glass of wine as she waited for her sign. At the bar across the way, Jesse and Rachel were anxiously watching and biting their nails.

"Why isn't she talking to him? What is she doing? She could have gotten wine at _this _bar."

"Jesse, shut up." Rachel whispered as she saw the way Quinn was staring at the redhead's shoes. She smiled softly as she realized what her fiancé was doing.

"Excuse me?" Quinn said politely as she tapped the woman on her shoulder. "Are they the newest Stuart Weitzman's?" The blonde asked, fixing her features to appear astonished, as she stared down at the redhead's shoes.

The woman smiled, impressed by Quinn's eye. "Why yes, dear, they are. You know your shoes."

Quinn nodded feverishly. "I know Weitzman. They're absolutely gorgeous. Did you see the horrific dress that hag wore with Weitzman's gold shoes at the Oscars?" The blonde asked. She was relieved when the woman laughed back and slapped Ainsley's shoulder to gain his attention.

"My husband and I were just talking about that tonight, weren't we dear?" Ainsley nodded and smiled. "I'm Charlene and this boring man is Ainsley." Quinn smiled politely and shook both of their offered hands.

"Quinn Fabray, a pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry to bother you like that it's just Weitzman's shoes are a work of art. I've never seen them up close, of course." Quinn conceded with a shrug.

Across the bar, Jesse's eyebrows were furrowed deeply as he frowned. "Please tell me your fiancé isn't discussing _shoes_ with Ainsley Swaine."

"I just can't believe she's talking to _the _Ainsley Swaine. She looks absolutely sexy mid-conversation with Ainsley Swaine." Rachel simpered beside the annoyed boy.

"Shoes! Rachel. They are talking about shoes!"

"She's still talking to him, at least." Rachel said, ignoring Jesse's negativity as she watched her blonde work. Quinn knew what to do, Rachel had no doubt about that.

"And I said to the director, look, Stefan, I trust my fiancé inexplicably, that's not the problem. And Stefan started grumbling in French, little did he know I used to take it in high school. I refused to call him out on his rude remarks," Both Ainsley and Charlene were smiling broadly at the blonde's story. "I mealy said that my fiancé works better when I'm around. Which is true. I calm her." Quinn stated with a shrug. "So he let me stay."

"That's unbelievable." Ainsley chuckled. "I hear Stefan is a pretentious, excuse the expression, _dickhead." _Quinn chuckled back.

"Well, he let me sit in at rehearsals so I can't complain."

"That's adorable, darling!" Charlene said as she flagged down the bartender. "Let's have a toast: to great loves!"

"Here, here." Ainsley chimed in. "Charlene and I have been together for over forty years and it only gets better." The man said as he lifted his glass.

"That is incredible. Rachel and I have only been together for a year and a half but we've known each other for five and a half years."

"Well what took you both so long?" Charlene exclaimed as she sipped her champagne.

"Well, in high school…"

"What are they talking about _now?" _Jesse exclaimed as he watched the older couple hang onto Quinn's every word.

"I'm having a difficult time reading _their_ lips, but Quinn's I know. I've done a lot of Fabray lip-watching." Rachel stressed. "She just said something about…" Rachel blinked harshly, completely puzzled. "Slushies…she just said slu-" The diva just gasped loudly. "She just said manhands! Oh my, God, I think she just told Ainsley Swaine that she used to call me Man-hands!"

Jesse's eyebrows shot up before he lazily flicked his gaze back to the threesome across the bar. "Their conversation sounds a lot more entertaining than ours."

"That's _terrible_, Quinn!" Charlene admonished. The blonde nodded gravely as she looked back and forth between the two; they were hooked.

"I know. I know! But…" Quinn broke out into a smile. "It all worked out in the end."

"Wait," Ainsley said suddenly. "Is _your _Rachel…Rachel Berry?" Quinn knew this was coming and readied herself; her eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped.

"How could you _possibly _know that?"

"Well she's the star of _A Sweetness, _correct?"

"Yeah…but…how-"

"Well you mentioned she was talented. You said she worked with Stefan. And you gave away that her name is Rachel."

"But how could you _possibly _know-"

"You'll have to excuse, Ainsley, Quinn. He sometimes forgets that there aren't people who worship the ground he walks on." Quinn laughed along with the couple, eager to play her role. "My darling husband contributes a great deal of money to Broadway shows. He makes it his business to know about them." Quinn adapted an expression of someone who was just let in on the biggest secret before her face morphed into horror.

"Oh my, God! I am so sorry. I've probably monopolized your whole evening talking about the very thing you already spend so much of your time on!"

Both Ainsley and Charlene shook their heads as they laughed. "Nonsense. We've loved your stories and it's very obvious that you're proud of Rachel and excited about your engagement."

"I really am." Quinn had no problem acting that scene out. "I…" The blonde bit her lip as she smiled shyly at the pair. "I actually just bought her a ring." The couple cheered loudly and Quinn only smiled brighter.

"Another toast!" Ainsley yelled as her called over the bartender. "Scotch all around!"

"They're getting _another _round? What's that, their fourth? Fifth?" Jesse seethed as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Both he and Rachel were exhausted. It was _very _late and after their long day they wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Well…_something _they wanted more was to meet Ainsley Swaine. So they stuck it out.

"You'll have to forgive me, I'm very buzzed." Quinn apologized after she hiccupped mid-story.

"Excellent! We're celebrating!" Charlene laughed. "Now tell me about this ring you're so proud of." Suddenly, Quinn's face lit up.

"Would you like to see it? I may be able to drag Rachel away from her cast to show you. OH, it's _so _beautiful and looks amazing on her. Right. Like it was meant only for her." Quinn gushed. It occurred to the blonde, right at that minute, that she really _was_ buzzed. Everything she had said about Rachel and the ring was the truth and exactly how Quinn felt.

"Bring her over!" Ainsley cheered again. "We'll have another toast!"

"Okay! Be right back!" Quinn spun away from the couple and her wide eyes fixed on to Rachel's across the bar with delight. "They want to meet you!" Quinn rushed out as she took Rachel's hands.

"Oh my, God! He does? They do? Oh my, God, Quinn! What do I say, what do I do? I'm having a nervous breakdown over here!"

"Just calm down and answer their questions." Quinn implored as she stared at Rachel. "Don't bring anything up, act bashful if they discuss your show, hesitantly bring up the movies if they ask about other projects, and do not, I repeat, do _not _sing!" Rachel bobbed her head a bunch and turned to squeal.

"Hey! What about me?" Jesse complained as he held his beer aloft in resentment.

"What about you, St. James?"

"Oh, Quinn, come on." Rachel chastised as she used Quinn's makeup mirror to look at her appearance. "Let Jesse come." The boy's eyes pleaded at the blonde.

"Why should I? H's not my client or my fiancé _or _both." Quinn stated as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Fine! I hire you, now can I come with?"

"You're not my client!"

"Why not?" Jesse whined. "I'll give you fifteen percent.

"Twenty." Quinn countered as she folded her arms. Jesse swore loudly as he looked across the bar to where the older couple was standing.

"Fine!"

"And you must only refer to me as Ms. Fabray."

"What?"

"Deal or no deal?" Quinn stated with her eyebrow quirked. Jesse grumbled. "Whatever, St. James, your loss." Quinn took Rachel's hand and turned back when Jesse stopped her.

"Fine! Deal." Quinn smirked as she held out her hand which Jesse reluctantly shook.

"Let's go. Oh! And both of you are only allowed to talk to Charlene, his wife. Do not ask Ainsley about anything Broadway-related. We don't want to annoy them." Quinn said over her shoulder as she clung to Rachel's sweaty hand. "And don't be nervous, Rach." Quinn said as she stopped and turned to the diva. "They're going to love you."

And they did. Instead of discussing Broadway, the three of them told Ainsley and Charlene stories of _New Directions_ and McKinley as they sat cozily at a back table in the noisy bar. Several times both Rachel and Jesse saw their costars walk by and shoot them envious glances.

But Ainsley and Charlene were remarkably easy to talk to. The redhead gushed over Rachel's ring, and so did Rachel. It was the exact ring she had always wanted: two carat pink, princess-cut diamond with half carat, perfect clarity matching side-stones.

It was almost closing time when Charlene finally yawned. "I see the missus is ready to go home." Ainsley smiled and got the bartender's attention for the bill. All five of them were quite intoxicated. The older man had bought their drinks all evening long while they chatted and laughed.

"I'm sad the night's over. I was having such a splendid time." Charlene whined as she stood.

"Thank you so much for your company. It was a real treat." Rachel smiled.

"Well Charlene and I are having a small get-together next weekend. Why don't you kids stop by?" Ainsley commented with a secret smile that made Rachel and Jesse's faces both slack with shock.

"We-we would love to!" Jesse practically yelled. Both he and Rachel knew the legendary dinners that took place there. You had a definite in with Ainsley if he extended the dinner party invite. It meant he wanted to help you. That he thought you were talented. That you were going places.

"Yes, Quinn you _must _come and give me your recipes!" Charlene stressed. Rachel had raved of Quinn's cooking all night to the redhead.

"We'll be there." Quinn smiled back as she said her goodbyes. Soon, it was just Rachel, Quinn, and Jesse, stunned into silence as they stared at each other. _The night had been perfect_, the diva thought. _Absolutely perfect_. She felt like she was on top of the world!

"I can't believe that just happened." She mumbled.

"I can't believe we got the invite, Rach!" Jesse exclaimed.

"I can't believe we're going to Ainsley Swaine's for dinner!"

Quinn snorted loudly into her drink. "I can't believe they believed that I haven't been lying to you all this time." The blonde laughed again as she glanced up from her drink and looked over at Rachel's confused expression before catching Jess's wide eyes. "What? What did I say?"


	8. Chapter 8 Seems Like Old Times

Chapter Eight: It Seems Like Old Times

"_The way you wear your hat_." Quinn sang in a whisper. "_The way you sip your tea. The memory of all that. No, no, they can't take that away from me. No, no, they can't take that a-way, from me._" She blew on the glass of the window and with her fingertip, drew a line in the fog. Just a line. She sat back in her chair and brought the mug of tea to her lips, reveling in the warm it radiated on her cold hands, before her head sagged against the wall.

Outside she watched hundreds of people scurrying around the busy city presumably to catch up with their holiday shopping. "Hurry up." Quinn whispered ten stories above the madness. "It's almost Christmas." A stray tear streamed down her cheek and rolled off her chin. But the blonde continued to watch the streets of New York City on mute. She could almost hear the noisy traffic, the sounds of the street performers, the constant chatter of millions of people on their cell phones.

Quinn suddenly closed her eyes as the stab of pain shot through her. It was a constant, daily reminder of how badly she had screwed up. It had only been two days ago but the blonde felt as though it had happened only seconds before. "Just me and you, Trevor." Quinn sighed when she felt the weight of the black lab's head on her foot. She hugged her arms tighter around her legs and stared down at him as she rested her chin on her knees.

With another sigh, she turned to watch people pile in and jump out of hundreds of cabs and sipped her tea. "_We can never, never meet again, on the bumpy road to love. Still I'll always, always keep, the memory of_…"

_Quinn was very aware that she just said something she shouldn't have. The air was completely still and everyone around them deep in conversation seemed to fade out as she took in Rachel's confusion and Jesse's anger. _

"_Quinn, honey, what are you talking about?" Rachel asked lightly through a forced laugh. Quinn wished she knew as well. _

"_What did you just say?" Jesse asked as he leaned forward slightly over the table, not noticing that his sleeve was dipping in the condensation from his beer. Quinn watched as the light blue material darkened slightly and tried to recall what she had just said. She felt sort of sick. Not sick like she had one too many scotches or sick as in her stomach was still quivering from emptiness; she never did eat after she had thrown up before Rachel's show. She only felt dread. _

"_Quinn?" Rachel prompted with another laugh as she ran her hand over the blondes. _

"_Huh?" _

"_What did you just say?" _

"_Jesse, be quiet." Rachel snapped. "Quinn, what did you mean? Lying to me? Wha-what did you mean, sweetie?" Quinn swallowed the cotton ball in her throat and tore her gaze from Jesse's sleeve._

"_I don't…" But she did. She remembered now. Quinn remembered the complete elation she felt from impressing Ainsley and Charlene. How they had adored Rachel. All the questions they had asked concerning their relationship. She was proud of herself in those moments. She was pleased that she had shown them how much she had changed and grown. She had only wanted to share her performance. How neat and tidy she had wrapped up her and Rachel's relationship. _

"_Quinn?" Rachel's laugh held anxiety now. The diva wasn't really sure _what _Quinn was referring to. And maybe if the blonde didn't seem so shell-shocked by her slipup, Rachel would have let it go. But Quinn appeared as though the floor was shaking and ready to bottom out from right under her feet. And Rachel knew that look on Quinn Fabray. She had seen it the moment Finn Hudson asked who the father of her baby was. It was as horrifying now as it was then. And just like then, Rachel's eyes began to swim with tears even if she didn't understand why. _

_Quinn slowly turned to look at Rachel. All sound was swallowed up as she watched Rachel's eyes scan hers with intent. Looking for something. Looking for the lie. "I can explain." She whispered slowly. Quinn really wished Jesse wasn't sitting across from them. It made everything seem so much worse that there was a witness to this horrible situation. _

"_Okay…explain." Rachel tried her best to muster up a smile, a way to show Quinn that she was all ears. The last year and a half had been like the last five minutes of a romantic comedy for the diva. All grand gestures and proclamations of love. So why did it suddenly feel like she was in a different movie? Playing a different character. _

_The staccato beating of Quinn's heart felt amplified as she stared into confused brown eyes. For the first time in her entire life, Quinn wanted to tell someone that she _really_ loved them. And it was the perfectly wrong moment. Instead, she was left with a choice. But it really wasn't a choice, was it? Because she knew, right then and there, that if this _had _been the perfectly _right _moment, she would have said those words. And Rachel would know that they were true. Just like Rachel would know that whatever lie Quinn didn't even bother to think up would be just that—a lie. _

_She was only left with where to begin. Her time alone in Lima? Before graduation? The time Rachel sang to her and Quinn realized that she _would _hold on? Her tenth birthday when she had asked for a dolly and instead she got a cross necklace? _

_When she couldn't provide any words, Rachel slowly stood. Or maybe she jumped out of her chair as though burned. She could have gasped loudly and covered her mouth in shock or balled her fists in anger. Quinn couldn't be sure. What she knew was that when she looked up at Rachel and saw hurt, Rachel was looking down and seeing guilt. _

"_Not the whole time." Quinn said in a whisper. The words made no sense to Rachel. But the fact that Quinn was crying made sense. She understood the tears. The terror. And suddenly she didn't want to know. _

"_I'm-I'm going to go." Rachel said softly as she collided with the chair behind her and stumbled around the table. _

"_What does that mean?" Quinn had forgotten about Jesse. "Rachel, no! Quinn, tell her what that means!" Rachel looked like a trapped animal in Jesse's arms. She didn't want to know what Quinn meant. She didn't want to look at the blonde's stricken face as she cried over whatever thing she had done that made Rachel feel like nothing would ever be the same. _

"_Jesse, please!" Rachel cried out in a pained whisper, trying to move away from the boy. Quinn reached out and touched his hand until he was looking at the blonde. Instantly he let Rachel go and the brunette was rushing through the crowds to flee the scene. Quinn was too stunned to chase after her. She couldn't explain correctly. She couldn't look into Rachel's eyes at the moment and tell her everything. _

"_I lied in the beginning and told her I loved her so she would take me with her here to New York. But I love her, Jesse, I swear I love her." She rushed out, knowing she had to explain to _someone_. Quinn watched as Jesse took in the words but his expression never changed. _

"_She won't believe you now." Quinn wasn't sure why that had been his response. But she ignored it as he stared blankly at her. _

"_Go after her, Jesse. You need to go after her!" Jesse glanced over his shoulder before turning back to Quinn, panic in his dark eyes now. As though the weight of the situation had finally caught up to him. _

"_What do I say?" _

"_Just go after her!" Quinn yelled, aware that she was crying harder now as she sat up in her chair. _

"_She'll want to know _why_, Quinn!" _

"_You know why I lied. Tell her. Now go!" _

"_But what will you do?" _

"_I don't know, Jesse, go!" _

_The boy looked over his shoulder again. He couldn't spot Rachel and he growled out his frustration. "Don't come home tonight but I'll call you tomorrow." _

_Quinn nodded as the tears fell. Jesse looked as though he wasn't sure what he should do next and ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. "You're a terrible drunk, Fabray." Quinn cried harder. "Just…just let me talk to her." He said softer. She watched as he turned into the crowd and then rushed back, still looking angry. "You're still my agent, Fabray. So wipe your tears away and _act_ like it!" And he was gone again. It took Quinn a moment to realize that he wasn't _just _an ass; he was concerned for her too. He was just exceptionally terrible at showing it. _

_Lydia didn't seem surprised when Quinn knocked on her door at four in the morning. The blonde had spent the previous two hours walking around and crying. The girl just stood aside and let Quinn enter. _

_Rachel had made it easy for Jesse to find her; she had only been just outside and a little left of the door to the bar. He wondered who she was waiting for and almost turned around to get Quinn. And he _would_ have. If Rachel had been crying. But she wasn't. She just stood there, arms folded, waiting. _

"_Are you ready?" He actually looked around to see who had spoken; surely Rachel wouldn't ask such a trivial question so calmly? Jesse instantly felt as though he made the wrong choice. He had left Quinn sobbing at the table to rescue a robot. _

_But he also knew that the brunette was too shocked to cry right now. She knew. Somehow she knew what Quinn had done. And that's the only reason he wrapped his arm around the diva's waist and directed her home. Because Rachel, sadly, was expecting something like this. And it actually hurt him to know that. No one should be able to infer from a look that everything they had known was a lie. From only just a few simple words. And later, when he told Rachel what Quinn had said about the lie…Rachel didn't seem surprised. _

Quinn's eyes were still fixed on the movement in the streets and barely registered the front door opening. She didn't hear Lydia and Jeremy complaining about the cold or how long it took Peepers to sniff around the park before he finally peed on a tree. She didn't take anything in until Jeremy's hand was on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Quinn looked up at him in confusion before she slipped off her chair and took Trevor by his collar. "Fine." She mumbled as she pulled the dog with her into the bathroom. It was a one bedroom apartment and the only place she could really be alone was next to the tub and between the toilet and sink. Trevor was always invited because, although Quinn didn't want to be alone, she couldn't explain to Lydia and Jeremy what had happened. She couldn't open up to them. They couldn't understand. She just wasn't ready. But Trevor understood.

X

Jesse huffed quickly as he reclined back on the couch, feet on the coffee table, and eyes on the ceiling. They had been sitting in silence for nearly two hours. "Did you want to talk about it?" Rachel shook her head as she sat in her chair, staring out the window, seeing nothing. "Did you want to sing about it?" He asked as he rubbed his forehead wearily. Again, the diva just shook her head.

Rachel didn't want to go back to her and Quinn's apartment Saturday night after everything. So Jesse gave her his bed and he unhappily slept on his leather couch. He _really _wasn't pleased about that. Sure, he felt bad for Rachel, but come Sunday he would be performing in back to back shows and a good night's rest was a must. He insisted they could share, but Rachel would have none of that.

Sunday's shows were horrendous. The matinee was pretty much a wash because Jesse was dead on his feet from lack of sleep, the rest of the cast was hungover and completely discouraged by their opening night, and Rachel was a zombie. Her performance was still amazing, but it lacked the heart she had the night before. Their second show wasn't much better. Even though it seemed everyone was well rested from their naps, their morale was tanking because of Rachel's lackluster performance; no one had ever seen her so one-dimensional and Quinn's absence was greatly felt.

Jesse thought for sure, since Monday was their day off, Rachel would allow herself to grieve; perhaps sing some Joni Mitchell. But she hadn't. She returned to her apartment and slept. When Jesse went to check on her no one answered his knocking, he assumed she was still in bed, perhaps crying, and waited. Finally, at a little after seven that night, he was awoken by a tapping on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find Rachel staring down at him. "How long have you been here for?" She asked curiously.

She was just getting home from wrapping on _A Date a Month_. He followed her into the apartment and watched as she boiled some water. "A few hours. You've been crying." He wanted to cut right to the chase. He almost felt relief to see her red-rimmed eyes.

"I have." She answered easily with a nod. "I feel as though I have been crying for hours." Jesse furrowed his brow at her smile and the roll of her eyes. Why was she being so cavalier?

"And you're…_happy…_about crying?" Rachel scoffed as she placed a tea bag in her mug.

"Well I had to, didn't I?" He followed her into the living room and took a seat on the couch as she got comfortable on one of the chairs.

"Yes. You did. It's only natural." He was pretty sure that one cried after heartbreak; he had seen it on stage and in classic films.

"Well…" Rachel conceded with a shrug. "Jocelyn's character wasn't very emotional, but I feel as though the end scene truly depicted a woman who had given herself over to love. The tears were necessary." Jesse did his best to rearrange his features—to not show that he was surprised she had cried only for the movie—but he knew he had been caught. Rachel's eyes dared him to question her, dared him to mention Quinn. He didn't. And after a moment the diva looked away; carefully avoiding all the pictures on the walls that contained the blonde.

He wanted to ask her if her tears were _only _from filming. Or if she had drew inspiration from recent events to lend to her character. But he didn't. Every time he tried to broach the subject the day before, Rachel would shoot him a look and he'd fall silent; he learned quickly.

Jesse didn't know what to make of her behavior. He was pretty sure that she was in denial. And as one silent hour passed into two, he became clearer that Rachel was ready to forget the whole thing if it meant that she wouldn't have to deal with it. That's why he asked if she wanted to talk. Or sing. But it just seemed as though she wanted to remain silent.

_A Sweetness _was in limbo. Stefan's assistant had phoned earlier that day to tell them both that they wouldn't be doing the Wednesday or Friday show until they got word from the producers. It costs a lot of money for a production to hit the stage and they weren't making the money they originally thought they would. Now with _A Date a Month _wrapped, Jesse was even more concerned about Rachel. She still had _Which of You, I Love _to film but that wasn't nearly as much work as the two other projects were; only three days of filming. The good news was it would get Rachel out of the apartment. The bad news: her character was so dark, Jesse was worried Rachel would immerse herself in the role and not face the fact that Quinn Fabray had used her and broke her heart.

He was slightly scared of this Rachel Berry, but he also knew that in every play, film, or novel, there had to be the tough-love friend. He was happy to take on the role.

Jesse lolled his head and huffed as he stared at the blank diva. "She broke your heart, Rach…can we _please_ talk about it?" Rachel slowly turned to look at him, her expression still vacant.

"She didn't break my heart." He barely recognized her.

"Rach-"

"Please do not assume to know me, Jesse St. James." Rachel replied coldly as she sat up in her chair and placed her mug down on the table. "Of course she was lying to me. How could I expect anything else? The only people who have never let me down are my fathers and they barely know me. They don't know what you did to me, what Finn did many times, Shelby, now Quinn. They never had the _faintest _clue how truly _alone _I was in high school. They didn't know that when I came to New York, I cried myself to sleep every night. Nor did they know how terrified I was because for the first time in my life, I was ready to give up on my dreams.

"So I went back to Lima, ready to give it all up. And that's when I found Quinn. She was as desperate as I was. At first, I thought she really did love me. So I played along. Readily accepting the lie I was _that _hopeless. So I lied as well. Made her believe that I was harboring enamored feelings as well." Rachel looked away and shrugged. "The truth has come out, big deal."

Jesse eyed the girl with confusion and fear. He didn't know this Rachel Berry at all. He knew that he was supposed to call Quinn back and give her a status update on Rachel but now he wasn't sure what he'd say. Denial is one thing…_this _was completely different.

"So you were lying?"

"I prefer to call it acting. It has a much more positive connotation." Rachel responded with an off-handed shrug. Jesse bit his lip and glanced down at the hardwood floors. He was almost positive that Rachel was telling the truth about lying to get Quinn to stay with her in New York in the beginning. But he was also positive that she was lying about never having feelings for Quinn. Anyone who saw the two together _knew_ that their feelings were real. He had believed what Quinn had said at the bar Saturday night after the truth had come out; she _had _fallen for Rachel. Jesse just wasn't sure why Rachel was trying to convince him that she was perfectly fine. Not heartbroken. Not in love.

Jesse felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket but didn't move to answer it. It was most likely Quinn. Again. Wanting to know if Rachel was eating. _What _she was eating. Was she sleeping? For how long? How was she? Was she upset over wrapping on _A Date a Month? _How did filming go? Was she upset that _A Sweetness _was on hold? Has she been crying? Why? On and on the question went earlier and Jesse wasn't looking forward to having another talk with the sobbing blonde.

"So you're not mad at her?" Jesse finally asked once the call went to voicemail.

"I suppose a little. But I can hardly be angry with her for doing exactly what I did. Although, perhaps, I'm slightly upset. One hardly enjoys being lied to, Jesse." The bitterness was gone from her tone and now she only appeared to be stating things. Like she was trying to teach Jesse about feelings and emotions.

"So what are you going to do?" She shrugged again without looking at him, staring at her mug, he figured, and watched as her eyes got glassy. Jesse rubbed his face wearily and tried to play it smart. The facts were these: Quinn lied to Rachel so she could have a future; Rachel lied to Quinn so that she wouldn't be lonely; Rachel fell in love with Quinn; Quinn fell in love with Rachel. Now he just had to get the two idiots in the same room to admit it. "She loves you." He muttered, hoping she'd hear.

For all his effort, all he got was a chuckle. "No she doesn't, Jesse."

"I think she really does, Rach. I think she really fell in love with you." Rachel's skeptical eyes found his and he had been right. When he told Quinn Rachel wouldn't believe the blonde fell in love with her, he had been right. He could tell by how hard her eyes were. "Fine, you don't believe me. But I _know _that you love her."

Tired brown eyes flicked to him again. "For the last year and half she has been the perfect girlfriend. _Anyone_ would find those actions endearing. I was never actually stupid enough to fall for her." The words were hard and bitter as she glanced back down at the coffee table.

"Well what are you going to do about Saturday?" Rachel's eyes closed for a moment as though in pain before she reopened them.

"What's Saturday again?" She asked as she rubbed her forehead.

What was more sure than positive? Because that's what Jesse St. James was. Rachel Berry was a liar, liar pants on fire as far as he was concerned. She didn't remember what Saturday was? How could she _not _remember Saturday was Ainsley's dinner party? But she had forgotten. Because she was heartbroken. Too caught up in her heartbreak to remember important things like Ainsley's dinner party. Jesse hid his smug smile because all at once the plan formed in his mind. If she was going to deny her feelings, then she'd suffer the consequences.

"It's Ainsley's party, Rach. You remember Ainsley, don't you?" He saw the suddenly realization on her face mixed with panic and he smiled to himself.

"Crap." She whispered. He heard it.

"Yeah. Ainsley's party and I'm pretty sure they're expecting Quinn." Suddenly her expression was blank again.

"I'm not going." _Shit_, Jesse thought.

"Rach, you _must _go. This is a chance of a lifetime."

"I'm not feeling up to it and I have the movie to film."

"They can't possibly film all night."

"We have no idea if Ainsley was truly serious about that, Jesse!"

"He was serious!"

"He was probably only being polite and will completely forget to call to give us the time and his address."

Jesse was getting frustrated. He had figured it out. He had the plan. Now he had to get Rachel onboard. Even if it was unwillingly.

"Are you going to see Quinn?" _That's right, St. James, switch it up. _

"Why would I see her?" _Her tone is far too casual. _

Jesse shrugged. "You still live together. You're not particularly angry with her. I assume she is your friend despite your lack of romantic interest. Why wouldn't you see her?" S_he looks anxious now._

"Perhaps I will." Rachel mumbled around the lip of her mug. _Liar! _

"Well don't you think sooner than later is better?" He hummed as he sat forward on the couch. "Meet with her, air both your dirty laundry, and plan for Saturday." Rachel bit her lip, still looking slightly panicked.

"I…suppose we should." Rachel cleared her throat and rearranged herself on the chair.

"Because, after all," Jesse pressed, smirking slightly, as he altered his features to appear impassive. "You both want the same things, correct?"

"I'm…not following." _Why so nervous, Rach? _

"Well…Quinn wanted to get out of Lima. Here she is in the Big Apple. You didn't want to be alone, now you have a roomie." Jesse shrugged as he relaxed back on the couch and crossed one leg over the other. "It's perfect. Win, win."

Rachel swallowed thickly and slowly nodded. "Yes." She just barely managed to get out.

"Now the cats out of the bag. Air cleared. Neither one of you have to pretend anymore. You can just…be…_friends_. Working for the greater good of Rachel Berry's career." The diva's head was cocked as she nodded once, her features set in concentration.

"Yes…that's…"

"And since you say you don't love her. And you don't believe that she actually loves you…no hard feelings." Jesse went on, noticing that Rachel was frozen as she listened. He could practically hear her mind screaming its protest; hating the idea of _only _being Quinn's friend. "Meet with her. Ask her to attend the dinner party; I'm sure she will be happy to do you the favor of resurrecting her role as your fake fiancé for the evening, after all, she's still your agent, correct?" Jesse's eyebrow rose as he watched her clogs work.

"I-I… suppose she is." Rachel answered quietly.

"Why wouldn't she be? She's exceptionally brilliant at working people. _Clearly_. And her taste is exquisite. You'd be crazy not to let your _friend _Quinn help you."

"I suppose." She mumbled slowly.

"So you two go to the party, pretend to be a couple for one night only, and then you drop the act to collaborate on your futures; she, a fledgling entertainment guru, you, a future star. Together you'll be unstoppable. As friends." Jesse added as he steepled his fingers and watched the different emotions flick across her features.

Rachel's discomfort was obvious. Pain, anxiety, fear, and longing danced in her eyes so rapidly Jesse almost didn't catch each one. But he knew he struck a nerve. "What's wrong, Rach, you don't like the plan?" He only _just _managed to conceal this mirth.

"What? No..no I'm fine. It's an…excellent plan, Jesse." Rachel answered, clearly miserable at the thought.

"Are you sure? You look close to tears. Residual emotions from your performance earlier, maybe? Or, perhaps, getting into character for the new movie?"

"Yes, of course." She whispered as she bit her lip to hold back her tears. But suddenly there was a knock at the door and Jesse caught Rachel's fearful eyes before she relaxed into her chair looking relieved.

"Maybe that's Quinn now." Jesse said with a smile.

Rachel shook her head, the relief still evident. "No…that's not Quinn's knock." _So you were panicked at first because you thought it _was _Quinn, but relaxed when you knew it wasn't. Interesting. No, of course you're not in love, Rach. I know how each one of my _friends _knock too. _

"Are you expecting anyone?" He asked as he rose from the couch; it was clear Rachel wasn't moving from where she was still huddled on the chair. The diva slowly shook her head as she whispered that she wasn't, so Jesse crossed the room just as the knocking got louder.

"All right, all right." Jesse mumbled at the persistent banging. He quickly looked over his shoulder just in time to catch Rachel wiping away tears—_maybe I pushed her too far too soon?—_ before he ripped the door open.

Jesse smiled smugly as he leaned against the doorframe, his one arm extended up along the border, as his eyes danced with amusement. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Mercedes Jones had arrived back in Lima for the holidays after a very trying semester. Her finals had kicked her ass. The stack of mail she had received in her time away at school was piled high on her bed; credit card applications, McKinley newsletters, junk mail, junk mail…she never _did _finish going through it all. Because once she found the letter with Quinn's name and address in the corner, everything else was forgotten.

She blindly collapsed onto her bed and ripped it open with a mix of excitement and foreboding. Mercedes had missed the blonde. Their friendship had gone askew around the time Quinn lost herself junior year and it only got worse once Mercedes starting dating. They never seemed to be able to find the time to catch up. Then Quinn's dad moved back in and the blonde's attitude took a turn. Mercedes thought that, perhaps, when Quinn's dad kicked her out for her rebellious behavior, they'd get closer now that they were under the same roof again.

But Quinn became distant. In hindsight, the blonde's attitude made sense; she was disowned yet again and she had most likely been depressed for that reason and probably more. But Mercedes didn't understand it at the time and their friendship buckled.

Sitting on her bed, quickly reading and rereading the letter, Mercedes smiled for what felt like the first time in months. She giggled at the postscript, amused that Quinn purposefully didn't clap at the random performer's rendition of _I Will Always Love You. _Her dark eyes welled up with tears as she realized how lonely for a friend the blonde was. And smiled because Quinn wanted their friendship back.

The letter was a little off. It didn't _feel _like Quinn—the blonde wasn't known for opening up or asking for help—but Mercedes was far too excited to care. Especially because Quinn was inviting Mercedes to stay with her, in New York City of all places, and she was thrilled that they'd have an opportunity to grow close once again.

She wanted to leave for New York right then and there. But of course her parents nixed that idea. They wanted to "spend time" with her. Mercedes did the obligatory thing and hung around the house for a few days but she thought she'd lose her mind if she didn't get a break from her parents soon. All they did was talk about her "future." About how singing wasn't a "solid" career choice and that she should follow in her father's footsteps. But Mercedes didn't want to be a dentist. It's not like they were rolling in the dough—a lot of the female population of Lima preferred to go to the newly single Dr. Carl Howell.

But they would hear none of that. And of course no other gleeks were home for break yet—everyone still had another week of school, and even then most were going away on vacation or visiting relatives—so Mercedes felt like she was slowly being driven to parricide.

Finally, by week two, they relented. She'd get to spend three whole days in New York with Quinn before she had to come back for the holiday. Mercedes, of course, wanted to be there longer. Her parents eventually caved that after New Years they might be persuaded to let her go back, however. So Mercedes kept her mouth shut and packed furiously.

Mercedes called the blonde from the Cincinnati bus depot but Quinn had changed her cell phone number. The letter _did _say drop by any time, though, so Mercedes was even more excited now that she'd get to surprise her old friend.

It turns out, _she _would be the one surprised.

Mercedes' excitement was washed away as her mouth tumbled open at the sight of Jesse St. James. He was _the_ very lastperson she had ever expected to see—ever again—open the door. But there he was, smirking, as she stared up at him in disbelief. "Rachel, dear, I believe it's for you." Jesse called out over his shoulder as he watched the girl gape and stutter.

Rachel wearily dragged herself off the chair as she wrapped her robe tighter around her body. She _really _didn't feel like dealing with visitors.

Wrapping on _A Date a Month_ had been easy. Her tears came even easier. The only scenes that she had left to film were of her heartbreak when her character thought she had lost the man of her dreams. The only difficult part of the whole production was finally stopping her tears once Matt called out, "it's a wrap!"

In truth, Rachel felt as though her character didn't grieve nearly as much as she _should _have. During filming, Rachel had wondered why the character wasn't screaming her agony and curling up into a ball to sob. But the filming kept her focused. Let her forget. Tomorrow she'd have _Which of You, I Love _to immerse herself in. To pass the time she'd go over her lines yet again. Up until Jesse arrived at her door earlier that night, work was all she'd let herself consider. Quinn was in a far distant part of her brain she would not tap into. And then Jesse started talking.

She had felt like a fool. A complete fool. Rachel had let herself believe Quinn's words. Her actions. The way she had kissed her. The night of her birthday stood out amongst all the others. Not the party. Not the most perfect proposal. But what happened after that. In their bed, after Rachel's fathers had left their apartment after celebratory champagne.

Both girls had been on the verge of sleep; it had been a _very _long, emotional day. But the way Quinn had held her cheek with her cool palm and kissed Rachel so softly before she slipped her tongue into Rachel's mouth…that moment felt like a sealing. And to now know that it had all been a lie—Rachel wanted to shred her skin in anguish. The fact that Jesse St. James had witnessed it all—the boy who did the _exact_ same thing to her once upon a time—made Rachel feel like an even bigger fool. It's why she lied. She just couldn't admit that _this _time, for the _first _time, her heart was truly broken. To save face, to save her heart, to prevent tears, she lied to make it all bearable. And now Jesse wanted to torpedo her façade with his Saturday plan.

But she wouldn't think of any of that. She couldn't. One thing at a time. Answering the door. She could do that. She didn't need to think about Jesse's plan—about seeing Quinn again so soon. Rachel would just brush him off. She wouldn't go Saturday. It's not like she needed to. Sure, the play probably would never see the stage again. And, okay, one film was done, the other soon to follow…perhaps Rachel _did _need to go Saturday to network. But the idea of seeing Quinn again, in only a few short days, made fire erupt just underneath her skin and the hole in her chest ache. Especially if she had to pretend that she and Quinn were happy and in love. Watch the blonde play the part that had fooled Rachel so completely for the last year and a half felt like a slow way to die.

She needed a distraction. Something to catapult thoughts of Quinn from her mind. She ducked under Jesse's arm and came face to face with a mighty distraction, and also a wonderful reminder. "Mercedes." Rachel whispered in awe.

"I guess you went ahead and sent that letter." Jesse said, smiling down at the stunned diva. Only Mercedes' eyes were wider than Rachel's…but not by much.

"Rachel?" Mercedes finally managed to stutter out. The girl took a hold of the door, closed it over to inspect the apartment number, before she pushed it back open again. "I went and knocked on the door to 2010." She mumbled in shock.

Jesse smiled broadly and guided Rachel further into the apartment before turning back to the shocked visitor. "Mercedes Jones, please do come in." He directed with a sweep of his arm. She stumbled forward a little into the apartment while Jesse retrieved the bags that she had dropped in her surprise.

"This is a weird dream. I musta fell asleep on the bus." Mercedes glanced over at Rachel, both of her arms where wrapped around her waist with her eyes trained on the floor, before she looked over at the still smiling boy. "What a weird-ass dream to be having."

"I assure you, you are not dreaming." Jesse laughed as he dropped Mercedes' bags onto the floor. "Can I get you anything? Water, juice, wine?"

"What the _hell _are you all doing here? This is the address Quinn gave me for _her_!" Mercedes said as Jesse steered her over to the kitchen table.

"What a fantastically entertaining story that is." Jesse smirked as he placed a bottle of water in front of Mercedes. "Rachel, honey, would you like to tell it or should we let Quinn?" Both he and Mercedes looked over at the diva. It was clear she was wiping away tears again. "It seems our dear Rachel isn't up to telling it. So I shall." Jesse said with a grin as he sat across from Mercedes.

"Jesse…" Rachel blew out a breath and rolled her eyes miserably at the boy's antics. Whether he was about to tell the truth or a lie, Rachel didn't want to hear any of it. Instead, she tightened the belt of her robe closer to her body and moved into the living room to find a pen and a piece of paper. Everyone was silent as Rachel wrote, and finally, Rachel was holding out her hand for Mercedes to accept the slip of paper.

"I apologize, Mercedes. I will not be able to catch up with you right now. Perhaps at a later date." Rachel cleared her throat and finally met Mercedes' confused gaze. "This is the address where Quinn is at currently along with the cab fare. Sorry to make you come all this way." Rachel offered her a small, pathetic smile, before she turned and went to her bedroom where she promptly shut the door.

Mercedes glanced down at the address and the twenty dollar bill before looking over at Jesse questioningly. He smiled around his bottled water and shrugged. "Women."

"What the hell is going on?" She finally exploded, thoroughly confused. Jesse got up and carefully took Mercedes' shoulders in his hands before leading her back to the door.

"So lovely to see you, Mercedes, we should do it again in another four years. Tell Quinn I'll speak to her soon and have a lovely visit in our nation's metropolis." Mercedes tilted her head as she stared up at the boy, her arms laden with her bags, as he smiled and waved. "Ta ta."

The door to apartment 4D stared her in the face and she briefly wondered if she had imagined the whole thing. Maybe she never knocked. But she felt the slip of paper and money Rachel had given her and knew that behind the door in front of her was a whole ball of crazy. "What in the-?" Mercedes blew out a breath and turned back towards the elevator. "Of all the weird-ass…"

Less than ten minutes later, Mercedes was standing in front of a different door. The anticipation was back and she placed down her bags to knock. A moment later she was face to face with a tall, shaggy-haired man who hadn't appeared to have seen a razor in a very long time. "What's up." Jeremy greeted with a smile and a head nod before he stepped aside to allow Mercedes in. She looked up at him skeptically as she entered the dark apartment and took his cue and sat on an empty chair.

On the couch across from her, Jeremy smiled again just as Lydia emerged from the bedroom. "Hi?" Mercedes greeted the girl. Lydia's eyebrows rose but she said nothing as she sat beside Jeremy.

No one said anything. Jeremy would just smile at her every once and a while as they sat there. After five minutes, Mercedes was getting slightly weirded out. "Sooooo….is Quinn here?"

"Ooohhh, you know Quinn?" Jeremy asked with a lopsided smile. "Quinn's good people." Lydia just stared blankly at the confused Mercedes.

"Annnd…is she here?"

"Totally, totally." Jeremy confirmed as he removed a blunt and some weed from the inside of his hoodie pocket and sniffled. "She's in the bathroom." Mercedes nodded awkwardly and looked around the clean apartment.

"Nice place you got here." She commented uncomfortably.

"Aw, thanks. Sweet of you to say." Jeremy smiled. "You want to hit this?" Mercedes shook her head furiously. "You sure? All right. Nah, yeah. Quinn cleaned it up. That's like, all she does all day lately. Clean. And cook for us." He smiled at the stoic Lydia before turning back to Mercedes. "Freaking sweet cause me and Lyds never do that stuff."

Mercedes nodded dumbly and her eyes widened as she watched Jeremy raise his lighter towards the blunt. "Do you expect Quinn to be much longer in the bathroom?"

"Oh, yeah. She just hangs out in there all day." Jeremy nodded as he pulled on his blunt. "You're welcome to go in. Her and Trevor just chill in there for, like, _hours_." Mercedes was _thiiiis _close to running back to Lima screaming. Her parents had been right: New York City was full of weirdos.

"Trevor is our dog." Lydia clarified. "It's fine. You can go in." Mercedes wasn't really sure she wanted to. But curiosity won out. With her bags tightly gripped in her hands, Mercedes walked over to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

"Is it an emergency?" Came the muffled question from behind the door. Mercedes let out a sigh of relief. That was Quinn all right. She smiled bigger and knocked harder on the door. "Jesus, _all right _Jeremy! You can come in!" Mercedes heard the lock flip and the door opened to reveal a disgruntled Quinn before astonishment and a smile took over. But for only a moment. Mercedes' large beam of elation slid off her face as Quinn Fabray took one look at her old friend, before she burst out into loud sobs.

Quinn collapsed into Mercedes' arms and buried her face into the shocked girl's shoulder as she shuddered and shook from the force of her tears. The blonde had no idea why Mercedes was there, how she found her—how she knew she was in New York at all, but she suddenly just didn't care.

_This _is what she needed. _This _was what she so desperately desired; her friend. Quinn needed to see an old face that knew who she had been, would notice the changes in her now, and tell her that she wasn't the most horrible person who had ever walked the earth—despite the fact that Quinn felt like she _was. _

She needed someone who would softly shush her and tell her everything would be all right, just like Mercedes was doing at that moment. Quinn needed someone who could talk to her about Rachel: how the diva used to be; gush about how she had changed. Quinn just needed _someone_ who really knew her. And that was Mercedes.

The poor girl was very aware of her soaking shoulder where Quinn's tears were leaking and Trevor's tongue as he licked the arm holding the blonde. Mercedes felt like she had traveled into a strange, alternant Bizarro world but figured that the letter she received didn't fully sum up just how bad Quinn was doing.

Eventually, after Mercedes kicked Trevor out of the bathroom and the two were huddled on the floor, Mercedes still holding Quinn; she had stopped crying. "Wha-what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

Mercedes leaned back against the tiled wall and surveyed her friend. Quinn looked haunted, pained. Thinner too. There were deep, dark circles under her hazel eyes and it was disconcerting to see how dim the color was. "I got your letter." Mercedes answered, slightly confused.

"My let-?" All at once, the pain crushed down and overwhelmed her until she felt sick from it. Rachel. Rachel had written to Mercedes. "When?" Quinn whispered in anguish.

"A while ago. Quinn…what's going on? I went to your apartment…" Mercedes trailed off as she saw fresh tears cascade down too pale cheeks. The blonde was blinking furiously as she hugged her knees against her chest and leaned her head back against the sink.

"Rachel wrote to you." Quinn whispered. And she had done it awhile ago. Which meant it was to be a surprise for Quinn. A happy surprise. Somehow the diva just _knew _that Quinn needed a friend, even before the truth came out. Rachel just knew her. That was an almost unbearable realization.

"Rachel Berry? And what in the hell are you doing living with Rachel Berry? And what the freakshow is Jesse St. James doing hanging around? Please tell me she's not dating that dude again." For a brief second, jealousy capsized on Quinn's chest at the thought of Jesse being around Rachel while the diva was vulnerable. It would be what she deserved, Rachel dating someone else, but she shook it away as she rested her cheek against her knee.

Quinn knew she had to start talking. She couldn't very well evade Mercedes' question, not when her friend came all this way to see her. It was obvious that Quinn was upset…she'd have to say something. But not the truth. She wanted to. God, she wanted to spill it all loose for Mercedes to hear. She was terrified to see her friend's expression and disgust at the lengths Quinn had gone to get out of Lima. But she would have faced it if it meant that she had someone to tell her what to do. How to make it right. She was desperate for someone to tell her how to fix it.

"I'm in love with her." But she couldn't do that to Rachel. She had already made a fool out of the girl. The last thing she wanted to do was send Mercedes back to Lima feeling badly for the woman she loved. Yet another Rachel Berry blunder, where the diva was duped into giving her heart away only for it to be broken.

Quinn was still staring at her knees and missed how Mercedes' eyes widened comically. Missed how the girl's eyebrows shot up so high that they disappeared underneath her weave. Didn't see how her mouth dropped open and her shoulders slackened until she was nearly folded over into herself. "You're _what?" _Mercedes finally got out.

"It happened so long ago I don't even know where to begin." Quinn whispered, not at all affected by Mercedes' awe. "I told her just after graduation. We've been together nearly ever since."

Mercedes' bulging eyes scanned the bathroom as she fought to form words. "I-I-"

"I know it's a little surprising." Quinn conceded with a faint smile against her knee, still looking at her friend. "But I do. And I messed it up pretty badly." The blonde whispered with a sigh.

Quinn finally glanced up, Mercedes hadn't said anything in a quite a while, and caught the still-stunned expression on the girl's face. "New York City is a weird place." Mercedes finally muttered in awe.

The laughter was caught in her chest so she just smiled serenely at Mercedes. "Tell me about it." Quinn breathed out as she stretched her legs and straightened her back against the sink. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for Mercedes' oncoming questions and shock. "We're engaged."

Mercedes jumped to her feet in surprise and stared down at Quinn in wonder. "You have. _Got_. To be kidding me?" Quinn felt relief that Mercedes was smiling. Her friend's eyes were alight and her expression spoke of a girl who just got handed the keys to the candy store.

Quinn smiled back with a chuckle as she rolled her eyes. "No. I'm not." Then another wave of pain rolled through her and she was no longer smiling. "At least…we _were_. I don't know if we still are." Quinn breathed out.

Mercedes sensed the shift in mood and slumped back down on the bathroom floor, shaking off the residual astonishment and pushed forward. "What happened, Quinn?" What Mercedes _really _wanted to ask was how it had _all_ happened. The most popular girl in school falling in love with the most boy-crazy, dorky girl in school. But that would come later, right now, Quinn needed her.

"I _really _don't want to get into it." Quinn admitted with a sigh as she stared at her lap. "I lied to her. She doesn't trust me right now."

"Did you cheat on her?" Again, Mercedes wanted to ask a slew of other questions. Like, if she _had _cheated on Rachel, would it be with a boy or a girl. How long had Quinn known she was gay? Was she gay? What was it about Rachel Berry? She was like popular-student kryptonite.

Quinn shook her head slowly at the question as her eyebrows furrowed. "I'd never do that." Mercedes wanted to mention the blonde's previous track record, but clearly it didn't apply to Rachel. Or maybe to women in general.

"How come you never told me?" Mercedes asked softly. She didn't want to be hurt that her friend never told her the truth, but she also knew that right at that moment, it wasn't about her.

"Honestly, Mercedes, I had no freaking clue." Quinn said with a light chuckle. "The night of Puck's graduation party I went to her place and just…I don't know…I figured it out or something."

"Yeah, I remember seeing you run out that night. Everyone was wondering where you went. Now I know. To your honey's." Mercedes said with a laugh. The tension was slowly seeping out of the bathroom as she watched Quinn chuckle and smile. Her eyes were slightly brighter too. Almost as though the more she spoke of Rachel, the better she got.

Two hours later, both Mercedes and Quinn were still on the floor of the bathroom. But things had changed. For one, Mercedes got the blonde to eat, finally. Jeremy had later mentioned that Quinn hadn't really eaten since _that_ night. But Quinn had ordered some Chinese food and the two were pigging out on the bathroom floor.

"You _have _to try some of this chicken lo mein." Mercedes moaned in delight as she ate another forkful. "I feel like I'm eating Chinese food for the first time."

Quinn laughed melodiously as she sipped on her water. "That's the thing about New York; it's got the best food. But no thank you. I'm fine." Mercedes held out the fork.

"You seriously got to try this, Q."

Quinn responded immediately without thinking. "I'm okay. I don't eat chicken, I'm vegan." The blonde pierced her broccoli, still chuckling at her friend, and took a bite.

"You're _what?" _Quinn froze as she glanced over at Mercedes and narrowed her eyes in confusion.

"What?"

"_You're _vegan? What in the _hell _did Rachel Berry do to you? Quinn Fabray; vegan! I'ma need to check hell because I'm _damn _well sure it froze over!"

"You think that's crazy, wait until I tell you about me converting to Judaism." Quinn said with a devious smile. Mercedes mouth dropped open as her eyebrow shot up.

"Holy, God my parents weren't kidden about New York City."

The night went on like that. Mercedes sat with rapt attention as Quinn filled her in on the past two years. She told her about Rachel's career. Their everyday life together. The proposal. Seeing Matt Rutherford. Dog walking. Her future.

Mercedes told Quinn about what she knew of the other glee kids. Where they were at school, who was still together, how often she saw them. She told the blonde about her new friends. Guys she dated. Classes she liked. What she wanted out of her future.

"Mercedes, you _can't _be a dentist!"

"You think I don't know that, Q? Putting my hands in some nasty mouth, shit. Hell to the naw. That just ain't for me."

"What about singing?"

"It's hard out there, Quinn. I can't just snap my fingers and replace Beyoncé." Quinn was silent as she worked that one over. _We'll just see about that... _

Once their occasional yawning became a regular occurrence, the two girls got up and prepared for bed. Quinn graciously gave Mercedes the couch as she set up a pile of blankets on the floor beside it. She missed her bed. "Tell me you ain't sleeping with that dog." Mercedes asked as she got comfy on the sofa.

"What? I like him." The blonde answered defensively.

"Q, he snores." Quinn blushed lightly as she slipped under the covers. "Don't tell me you sleep next to him _because _he snores. Don't do this to me, Q." Mercedes teased playfully as she watched her friend get more and more embarrassed.

"What's the big deal?" Quinn grumbled.

"I _know _Rachel snores, that's why! Oh you are _sooo_ whipped!" Mercedes laughed and then laughed harder when Quinn swatted her with her pillow. She didn't want to admit it, but the sound of Trevor snoring made it easier for Quinn to sleep. It reminded her of Rachel.

X

Mercedes had improved Quinn's mood considerably over those few days. The two walked dogs, chatted about everything, and did some sightseeing. It was great having her friend there. She didn't even realize how much she had missed Mercedes. They were already making plans for when she would come back to New York after New Years.

Jesse had sent several texts to Quinn while Mercedes was there. Everything from, "_Where do you keep the band aids_?," to "_Do you have any fresh basil leaves_?" The blonde wasn't exactly happy about it, but she had asked Jesse to stay with Rachel; to take care of her. She couldn't imagine why either one of them would need a band aid—she was hoping Rachel punched him or something—but she was sure Jesse was trying to do as she had asked and get Rachel to eat by cooking for her.

The texts were a relief to get, but Jesse still didn't give her any word on how Rachel was _really _doing. Or if the diva had a message for Quinn. "Why don't you just go over there?" Mercedes had asked on her last day in New York. They were saying their goodbyes at the apartment because Quinn had a dog walk to get to so she wouldn't be able to accompany her friend to the train station.

"She doesn't want to see me." Quinn sighed miserably as she ran fingers through her hair. Mercedes clicked her tongue and appraised the blonde through narrowed eyes.

"At least _call _Jesse. Get him to talk." Quinn shook her head.

"I'm giving her space." Mercedes shook her head sadly.

"She's bad, Q. From what I saw that night…she reminded me of senior year Rachel." Quinn glanced up, her eyes fearful. "Maybe not as bad…or maybe worse…" Mercedes trailed off. The hole in Quinn's heart felt as though it had gotten bigger. "She didn't seem as _angry _as she did back then. But sadder. She needs to see you."

"Yeah…maybe." Quinn conceded. They hugged for a moment and promised to talk before Mercedes was out the door. But she wasn't planning on going right to the train station. She needed to make a quick stop first.

Rachel answered the door and was surprised to see Mercedes; she figured it would have been Jesse. Mercedes smiled brightly back, her bags at her feet, and noticed how worn-out the small diva appeared. Both she and Quinn definitely looked worse-for-wear.

"Hey, Rach. I'm going back to Lima and I just wanted to say goodbye." Mercedes said with a warm smile. She felt closer to Rachel now, as though Quinn's stories had reintroduced her to the diva…and maybe introduced her; she learned _a lot _about Rachel Berry in the past few days via Quinn. Mercedes was sad she wouldn't be able to see the changes until after the New Year.

"I'm sorry I haven't made an effort to see you, I just-"

"It's okay, Quinn told me everything." Rachel's eyes widened as she wrapped her arms around her thin body.

"She did?" Rachel asked slowly, not mentally prepared to deal with Mercedes' ridicule over how she had been so delusional to ever think Quinn Fabray would fall for her.

"Yea, and I get it…well I understand why you'd be upset, I certainly don't _understand _anything, though." Mercedes chuckled. She didn't think she'd _ever _fully understand Quinn and Rachel falling in love with each other. "Q didn't go into details. But I she told me about lying. I get that you don't trust her."

"Um…"

"But after watching Quinn cry more than she did when she was pregnant, I started to understand a little better." Rachel was confused now. _Quinn has been crying? Wait…what's going on? Understand what?_

"You did?" Rachel asked in disbelief. _Is she taking Quinn's side? Why is Quinn crying? _

"As a thank you for writing the letter for Quinn, can I offer you a piece of advice?" Rachel's eyes scanned the empty hallway, not entirely sure as to what was going on. "Forgive her." Mercedes whispered. She saw the pain in Rachel's eyes and knew that it was a mirror image of Quinn's. But Rachel was even more confused, now. And also a little hurt that Mercedes didn't think what Quinn did was that big of a deal.

"Rach, that girl is madly in love with you. I almost can't believe I never saw it before. Sure, her weird fixation on you in high school used to raise a few eyebrows. And, okay, to be completely honest, us glee kids used to wonder if our girl wasn't all Brittany/Santana from time to time, you know, because of her seemingly lack of interest in _any _of the dudes she was seeing. And…you _have _to admit it was kind of strange how crazy detailed those pornographic drawings of you were that covered the bathrooms…" Mercedes fell silent for a moment, her face scrunched up in confusion. "Actually, I can't believe I was so blind. That girl is capital G, gay!"

"Mercedes-" _Quinn never told her. Quinn lied to protect me. Or maybe herself. _

"I mean, if you think about it, it's so obvious. She practically _begged _me to date Puck while he was her baby daddy. And she _never _even kissed him even though they could so do the nasty again and not have to worry about getting pregnant cause she already _had _a bun in the oven. She barely blinked when you dated Finn. And when it came out that the only reason she was upset when she and Sam broke up was because yet again a dude dumped her and didn't seem to miss her…and _then_ when both he and Finn were single she didn't make a move…huh, I really _was _blind!"

"Is there a point in this little rant of yours?" Rachel asked playfully. She actually missed Mercedes. It also felt like a relief that Mercedes wasn't on Quinn's side. That the girl wasn't there to mock her.

"My point is, Rach, you should forgive her. She didn't tell me why you two are fightin' but the girl is head over heels. All she does is talk about you and how great your future is lookin. Made me kind of jealous but she said that she'd keep her ear to the ground for any singing projects she could get me on. She's kind of my agent now too." Mercedes smiled proudly.

"That's great, Mercedes. She's an amazing agent." _She's just amazing…Stop it, Rachel! And don't listen. Mercedes doesn't know what's going on. Quinn was probably just laying it on thick. She doesn't really love you, get it? She doesn't love you. Maybe she does. No, stop that! She doesn't! _

"Look, Rach…I know that we kind of used to be close before…well…I just want to see you happy. When I first got here, you looked a little too much like senior year Rachel and it really made me sad to see." Both girls were silent for a moment as Rachel ducked her head and remembered how alone she used to be. It felt a lot like now, only worse because Rachel didn't know in high school what it felt like to _not _be alone.

"Buuut," Mercedes eventually said with a bright smile. "If it's okay with you, I'm coming back after the New Year so we can spend some real time hanging out and you two can show me all sights."

"Sounds good." Rachel said with a laugh and her first genuine smile in days.

"In the mean time, you best make up with that girl. Cause I want to be in that wedding. It's gonna be a crazy-ass ceremony and I can't miss it for the world." Rachel choked back a sob at the thought. There wouldn't _be _a wedding. And that was something Rachel was just going to have to start getting used to. She took off her engagement ring. But it didn't get far. She was wearing it around a chain that rested underneath whatever shirt or dress she'd wear. It was too painful to put away completely.

"Forgive her Rach. At least go talk to her. She's a mess without you." Mercedes whispered as she hugged the diva. Tears welled up in her eyes and she could only nod, the words were stuck in her throat. "Quinn asked me not to tell the other gleeks about the two of you just because she didn't want them to hound you guys. So your secret is safe with me. But I'll be waiting for my wedding invite." Mercedes said with a smile as she wagged her finger at Rachel. The diva nodded as she wiped away her tears; but she couldn't help but smile, too. Because Mercedes was familiar. And it felt good to smile again.

Once the girl was gone, Rachel retreated back to one of the chairs in the living room. Over the past few days she didn't have it in her to sleep in their bed or sit on the couch were they had so many memories. But for the first time since Saturday, Rachel allowed herself to glance up at the pictures that surrounded their walls and really look at Quinn.

The blonde appeared so happy in each and every one. She had _really _fooled Rachel. Apparently, Quinn had really fooled Jesse and Mercedes as well.

_What if she _does _love us?_

_She doesn't. _

_Mercedes said she had been crying. _

_Guilt. Maybe she's upset because she was found out and her future is over. _

_But Mercedes said-_

_I heard her. _

_What if she does love us? Remember what she said in the bar? "Not the whole time." Maybe in the beginning, just like us, it had been a lie. Maybe she fell in love. _

Rachel mulled that over as she boiled the water for her tea. In the corner of the kitchen counter, the red light flashed on her answering machine. Curious, and a little anxious that it was Quinn, Rachel pressed the button.

"_Hello, Ms. Berry, Ms. Fabray, this is Ainsley Swaine calling. I hope you are well and I just wanted to confirm that you will both be attending my Saturday dinner party, along with Mr. St. James." _Rachel blew out a breath as she cradled her head in her hands. For the first time all week she _really _allowed herself to think about Quinn and the whole messy situation.

"_The festivities will begin at six sharp, dinner at seven. I hope to see you both there and Charlene made me promise to remind Quinn to bring her recipes. Are you happy dear, I told her." _Rachel laughed, a painful admission, at the couple. It was obvious that last line was to his wife. "_I hope to see you both there, and here's the address…" _

Rachel saved the message and bit her lip as she tried to figure out what to do. She didn't want to go Saturday. She knew how important it was to her career but…

_It's an excuse to see Quinn. _

_I…but, it hurts. What if…_

_Jesse said you two can be friends. That can still happen. _

_I can't _just _be friends with her! It will hurt too much! _

_Admit it…you're dying to see her. _

…_I am. _

_And what's good for your career is good for Quinn's. What if you two break up, huh? What will happen to Quinn? She'll have nowhere to go!_

_I'd be so worried about her. _

_And what about Barbra? _

_What about Barbra?_

_Funny Girl, last scene. _My Man. _Oh, my man, I love him soooo…_

…_He'll never know…_

Like a racing horse out of the gate, Rachel sprinted towards the living room to where her iPod deck was. She found the song and cued it up as she stood in the middle of the room. She found herself slowly mouthing the words until she was on top of the chair, belting out the number with everything inside of her.

Maybe Quinn had never loved her. Maybe it had all been a lie. But in that moment, as Barbra's powerful voice surrounded Rachel like a warm blanket, or Quinn's arms, Rachel felt stronger. For the first time all week, felt hope. "_Oh, my man I love his so! He'lllll never know. All my life is just despair. But IIII don't care! When he takes me in his arms, the world gets bright, all riiiight!" _

Rachel thrust her arms in the air as the music swelled. "_What's the difference if I say, I'll go away, when I know I'll come back on my knees someday." _In a whisper, a low gust of air that was anything but weak, Rachel continued to sing. "_For whatever my Quinn, is, I am hers, foooor evvvver mooooore!" _

And just like that, Rachel had a plan.


	9. Chapter 9 Imagine Me and Q

_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoy. _

Chapter Nine: Imagine Me and Q

He was there to break the bad news. Usually he didn't mind being the messenger. That day, it bothered him. But it was a preemptive strike. Rachel couldn't be the one to do it. Because Rachel would lie. She'd go in there being a Negative Nancy and Quinn would be heartbroken and discouraged and Jesse couldn't have that. He needed the blonde to _know_. To realize exactly what she was getting herself into. And he knew Quinn would ride the wave; he just had to convince her.

"You wanted to talk?"

"Why are you in the bathroom?"

"It's my office. Talk fast." Quinn stepped aside and took a seat on the lip of the tub as Jesse stood just inside the small space. Her eyebrow was quirked and for a moment Jesse seriously wanted to just leave because that icy look of hers always made him feel like a boy. But he stayed.

"I have a script." Jesse took the rolled up screenplay out of his back pocket and handed it over to the suspicious blonde.

"Seriously? You came here to give me a script?" Jesse shrugged as he looked around the bathroom; it was freaking scary how clean it was.

"One of Rachel's NYU friends gave it to me. It's too late to enter it into _Sundance _but perhaps next year. I'm sorry…but did you do this?" Jesse asked, barely holding back his laughter as he inspected the soaps; all neatly piled on top of one another in quite an artistic way.

"Shut up." Quinn mumbled as she rolled her eyes. She had a lot of time on her hands. So what? She got creative with hand soap. Big deal.

"Anyway. It's a war film. Now, I'm not exactly excited to be working with NYU film students, having a degree at UCLA, myself, however, I can make an exception."

"That's a lovely story." Quinn mumbled sarcastically as she inspected her nails. "How is she?" She whispered, suddenly desperate to know.

"As a paying client, I thought we'd get through business first, if you don't mind?"

"Well I do mind. So start talking." Jesse rolled his eyes and leaned back against the door as he folded his arms and crossed his legs at the ankle.

"She's…_better_. I don't know what changed but yesterday when I stopped by she was busy on the computer, humming." Quinn nodded slowly at the news. _On the computer…humming? _

"What was she doing on the computer, exactly?" Quinn asked, needing to know.

But Jesse only shrugged. "Can we talk about the script now? It's a war film; a period piece with-"

"No." Quinn said, cutting the boy off.

"But you haven't even heard the whole plot yet. It's a war film with a love story interwoven-"

"Absolutely not." Quinn deadpanned as she crossed her arms.

"Quinn!"

"Uh, uh, uh." Quinn mocked as she wagged her finger. Jesse growled as his jaw clenched.

"Fine. _Ms. Fabray!_"

"Better."

Jesse rolled his eyes again as he stood up straight. "Why not? It's a war film! I get to carry a musket, Quinn! A _musket_!"

"Don't call me Quinn and I don't care that you get to carry a musket. A film student doing a war film—a period piece no less—is as absurd as a dog doing a documentary on humans." Quinn mumbled as she leafed through the script. She suddenly scoffed as she read the first page. "Jesse, the opening line is, 'the autumn breeze stirred my senses as I gazed, lost, in the fiery embers of my soul.' You cannot_ seriously_ want to do this trash." She tossed the script and the floor and leaned back on the tub, bracing her hands on the opposite lip.

"A musket!"

"You're not putting your name on this. Forget it."

"Fine. Are you at least coming Saturday to Ainsley's? He called both Rachel and me yesterday and I need my agent there." Quinn jaw tightened as she tried to keep her expression neutral. Every time Jesse said Rachel's name, a stab went right through her heart.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Quinn breathed out as she sat up straight. Jesse raked a hand through his hair as he readied himself for what was to come. He was glad he brought the script to break the ice—only moderately bummed that Quinn didn't think he should do the movie—but wasn't sure if it was the right time to talk.

He was running out of time. It was Friday. The party was Saturday. Rachel wanted to talk to Quinn that day. He would have to spill or else his plan would be over before it began. Jesse took an uneasy seat on top of the toilet and perfected the speech he prepared.

"She's head over heels in love with you." He started. He knew he'd have to do a compliment sandwich of sorts; start with the good, add the bad, finish with more good. Jesse had to convince her and fast.

"Jesse…" Quinn breathed out, her heart aching, not wanting to hear how badly she messed up.

"I'm not done." He said as he held up his hand firmly.

"What could you possibly say to-"

"She lied in the beginning just like you did." The shut Quinn up fast. The blonde physically blanched, as if a wrecking ball just slammed into her, and her face paled considerably.

"Wh-what?"

"She lied too. But, just like you, she fell in love. She is _madly _in love with you. But she's hurting. I've tried to convince her that you really _do _love her, but she is so upset that she just doesn't believe me. I suppose her twenty years of disappointment has led her to a place where she is inclined to believe that she is un-loveable. However, we both know that's not true." Jesse wanted to keep talking. Anything to remove that awful look from the blonde's face.

"Quinn! Snap out of it!" The blonde shoot her head at Jesse's loud outburst, too caught up in the realization that everything she had known to be true just vanished. "She loves you." Jesse repeated, a hint of anger in his voice. Women and their emotions always slightly bothered Jesse. "She's just hurting. So you need to do something. Don't just sit there!"

Quinn slowly rose from the tub and ran her hand through her hair as she fingered the cross that dangled from her neck. "She lied?"

"Yes, she lied. And so did you, in case you forgot."

"Thank you, Jesse, for that reminder!" Quinn hissed as she turned on the boy.

"Well then, get your head out of your ass! Rachel is going to come talk to you today and I need you fight-ready."

"Fight-ready?" Quinn snapped.

"Yes! I need you to _know _that she loves you. Because she's going to walk through that door and spew some lie about never feeling anything towards you _only _because she is so scared of her emotions!" Quinn glanced down at the floor, arms crossed as she rocked back against the wall, deep in thought.

"She loves you. She is humiliated. And she's scared. For the first time in her whole life she felt truly special. Because of you. Then she finds out that it was all a lie. To save face, to protect herself, she's going to come here and pretend that she doesn't feel that same. I think I've managed to convince her that remaining friends with you is wise; remaining her agent and such. I used her lie against her. Quoting that if you both needed the other in the beginning then you still need each other now.

"Rachel will tell you that she forgives you for lying and ask if the two of you can move past it. She's going to put on a big, happy face and claim 'friends,' but you can't listen to it, Quinn. You can't believe her. She loves you. I'm _sure _of it. But agree to be just friends."

"Why?" Quinn whispered, finally looking up at the boy. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't cry in front of him.

"Because! She loves you, Quinn!" Jesse exclaimed as he flung his arms in the air. "She just needs time to _trust_ you again. Now that it's out there—the truth that you both lied—you can start fresh! Slowly build something as _friends_!"

"So what, I'm just going to _pretend _not to love her? I'm just going to _lie _once again? No, Jesse, I'm not doing that to her!"

"Can't you understand? She won't _listen_! She is physically _incapable _of hearing how you really feel right now! For the last week she has been a robot. I haven't seen her cry _once. _She wasn't even surprised to find out that you lied! Almost as though she was waiting for the other shoe to drop all along. For you to tell her that you love her now would be a waste. She doesn't trust you.

"But if you waited. If you started out as friends, took it slowly, she'd start to heal and get to a place where she could open her heart again. You have to prove to her that you're not going anywhere. That you'll stay by her side, that it isn't all about _your _future and _your _own selfish needs. Once she can start to accept that you're with her because of _her _then maybe she'll start to believe that your feelings are genuine. But that's going to take time, Quinn, and no John Hughes-like speech or grand gesture is going to prove it to her; only time."

Quinn had listened to each word and weighed it against what she knew of the diva. The blonde hated to admit it, but Jesse was right. She would need time to prove it to Rachel. She could hardly be upset that the girl had lied to her in the beginning—Quinn was very aware that she took advantage of the diva when she was at her worst. She also knew that she couldn't pull a Jesse, or Finn, or Shelby. What Rachel needed was someone at her side to really _show _that they were in the diva's corner. And Quinn wanted to be that person. She _hated _not being around Rachel; not knowing if the brunette was taken care of, eating right, sleeping, exercising, memorizing her lines, or properly defended against whatever was thrown the diva's way. Every good thing Quinn had already done was now negated. The proposal, getting her roles, going to her classes, cooking, cleaning, the works. It was all wrapped up in a lie. Time was the only thing that could really convince Rachel that Quinn wanted to be with her.

Something akin to relief swam over the blonde at that moment. And before she could stop herself, she was laughing.

Jesse's eyebrows shot up at the sight of Quinn Fabray doubled over in laughter. She was shaking hard and tears rushed down her cheeks in amusement. "Something you would like to share with the rest of the class, Fabray?"

Quinn only laughed harder as she sagged against the bathroom tiles, arms wrapped around her waist as she released a year and half worth of lies. "Honestly, now's not the time to lose it, Quinn." She laughed harder at that. Waving her hand in his direction to show she only needed a moment to fully dispel her newfound liberation.

The blonde finally righted herself and wiped away the stray tears as she considered the boy. "That's _Ms. Fabray_." Jesse rolled his eyes as he expelled a large breath and lazily stared at Quinn.

"So what's it going to be?"

Quinn chuckled again as her finger skimmed her necklace. "Did you know that I _hate _getting up early?" The blonde asked with a smile. Jesse narrowed his eyes, not sure where Quinn was going with this.

"That's wonderful. Neither do I."

"I do, I _hate _getting up early. But for the last year and half…six o'clock, on the dot, I'm up. And I _hate it!_" Quinn laughed again as more tears formed in her eyes.

"I hate going to classes that are mine. I hate cooking three meals a day. Laundry rooms, Jesse, I swear to _God, _I _hate _laundry rooms! I hate pulling out Rachel's hair from the drain and rinsing her leftover toothpaste from the sink! Picking up her wet towels and cleaning up all her discarded clothes! Rachel Berry is a _slob!" _

Jesse glanced around the bathroom uncomfortably as Quinn dissolved into a fresh wave of laughter. "But I did it! For a year and half I did all those things with a painted smile on my face because I wanted to be the _perfect _Stepford Wife so that Rachel would stay with me! But you know what?" Jesse's expression looked pained, afraid of the answer. "I love her! I do! I love that little messy diva because when she sings I get goose bumps and she skips around the apartment when some stupid musical is about to come on and because she snores louder than a Labrador and her face gets all scrunched up when she's concentrating and her lips move when she reads, I love _all _those things! And I find it _endearing _that she leaves toothpaste in the sink! I do, I think it's freaking adorable!"

He was currently wondering if he could casually skirt around the blonde to make a fast exit just when Quinn stepped away from the wall and stood in front of him. "I hurt her. I took advantage of her. She was, for all intense and purposes, on the rebound when I lied. I knew she'd fall for it. And I think you're right. She's going to come here and tell me that she lied too just to test me to see if I'll leave her. But I'm not.

"I'm going to stay by her side and I'm going to slowly show her that I'm the girl of her dreams." Quinn said, taking a step closer to Jesse—who promptly took a step back—as her hazel eyes crackled and her tone a deadly calm. "This time, I'm going to do it as _me_.

"I'm going to push her and challenge her and force her to realize that I'm so deeply in love with her that I'm _not _the perfect woman she so blindly fell in love with. I'm not Quinn Fabray; head Cheerio, but I'm not Mrs. _Berry_; Stepford Wife. I'm just _me. _A girl who _loves _cooking for her but doesn't have to do it for every meal. A girl who _hates _going to her classes but who will be happy to help her study. A girl who won't go to every single audition, show, and rehearsal because I'm her agent or I think I have to, but because I love watching her on stage.

"If she thinks that I'm just going to roll over and fall for more of her lies, she's sorely mistaken! It's time Rachel Berry wakes up and sees that Quinn Fabray is more than a gorgeous face and fake sentiments. When I'm through with her she'll be even more in love than she was before. The only difference is, this time…this time it will be _real_."

X

Rachel sat uncomfortably on Lydia's couch as she waited for Quinn to get out of the bathroom. She had no idea why the blonde had been in there since she had arrived almost a half hour ago, but Rachel seriously hoped that Quinn wasn't ill; she'd hate to upset her further is she wasn't feeling well.

Not that what she had to say would necessarily upset Quinn, ill or not. Rachel just knew that at that moment, things were a little confusing. She didn't know the blonde's motives. What was Quinn hoping to get out of everything? Jesse had told her that Quinn lied so she could get out of Lima and start a life elsewhere. And now Quinn had.

But what kind of life did the blonde want? Rachel was aware of how much money Quinn saved. The diva had seen Quinn's bank statement. It made no sense to Rachel as to why Quinn was continuing with the charade when she had the money to make her own life. _Not _with Rachel.

Could Jesse have been right? Not the bit about Quinn being in love with her. No, that was off the table—it _had _to be; Rachel wasn't in a place where she could hope. But maybe the blonde truly _liked _her. Wanted to be friends.

Rachel was struggling with that part of things. The last week had been nearly impossible to get through. A constant ache that she tried to scratch at only to find a hole. But it kept aching. Now, knowing that Quinn was only _feet _away, the ache lessoned and the hole got smaller.

As she often does, Barbra consoled Rachel and counseled her to a place where she felt some sense of control. Instead of being her usual emotional self, she was now clear-headed; she had a plan. From now on Rachel Berry wouldn't sit back and allow herself to be blindsided as she had been in high school. Oh, no. This time, she'd take the wheel and dictate to Quinn what would happen.

Once the blonde made her appearance—Rachel seriously hoped the girl was feeling okay; what _was _she doing in the bathroom?—she'd simply sit the blonde down and tell her how it was going to go. She had the whole speech—read: long-winded rant—down cold, and was ready to debate and shoot down whatever counter-argument Quinn could come up with.

They would stay friends, of course. Because Jesse had been right about the part where Rachel needed Quinn in her life. But the diva was positive that seeing Quinn on a daily bases would be a recipe for only further heartbreak. She would need _some _distance to remain sane. The masochist in her balked at the idea of spending any more time apart from the blonde. But the small, tiny realist in Rachel knew that it was a must. She would continue to love Quinn, just from afar.

Surely the blonde wanted to truly fall in love. Meet a nice man who could take care of her or something gross like that. And Rachel wanted Quinn happy. However agonizing it would be for the diva, she needed Quinn to be happy and taken care of.

And until that day came, Rachel wanted to be the one to do it; to repay the blonde for her generosity. Quinn had provided and aided the diva far more than she could ever convey. It was almost as though the blonde had nursed Rachel back to health. The fall-out from high school had been severe. It had taken a massive toll on the diva. But Quinn made Rachel see, through just being her amazing self, that what happened back then wasn't some dramatic Rachel-Berry-life-ruining event; it was just high school.

Finn Hudson was just a boy. Mr. Schuester was a lonely man with his own problems. Jesse St. James was just narcissistic—that hadn't changed, but his desire to be her friend made the whole thing seem silly now. Her peers were just as lonely and confused as she had been. And Shelby…well, Shelby was a tad tougher to define. Ultimately, Rachel didn't have any answer for that one. The hurt still stung. The rejection continued to plague her. And the answers were still allusive. At one time, Rachel believed that Quinn's love made up for that. Almost as though, if Quinn Fabray loved her, than Shelby's rebuff didn't mean as much. Surely the woman was a fool.

Now, with the lie reveled, Rachel was having a difficult time remembering exactly how she had been able to file her mother's rejection away. So she wasn't thinking about it.

Instead, she was trying to stay focused. Hovering somewhere between desperate to be a part of Quinn's world in whatever capacity she could, and holding firm on the idea that less was more where the blonde was concerned.

The monkey wrench in the plan had been Jesse, however. His annoying attitude over Quinn remaining her agent and continuing to be friends was making Rachel itchy. She couldn't just come out and tell the boy that she was in love with Quinn. And because she couldn't be honest—let on about how much she was hurting—she didn't have a valid reason _not _to have Quinn constantly around.

Jesse thought that both she and Quinn had lied. He didn't see what the big deal was if they continued to help each other as they had been. And of course, to someone not inside Rachel Berry's heart and head, it was a legitimate inquiry.

So Rachel set out to ease over the argument. Instead of taking the defensive and letting Quinn question why they couldn't keep things as they were, Rachel was ready to, instead, _finesse _the blonde a tad. Use big words and run-on sentences to confuse Quinn into seeing it the diva's way. That is if Quinn _wanted _to keep things the way they had been. If the blonde didn't mind moving out, creating a life of her own, then Rachel wouldn't have to worry about trying to convince her. Then, she'd only have to worry about heartbreak—Rachel was hoping for a morsel of resistance, at the very least; for ego's sake.

But the logical part of Rachel's brain knew that if Quinn put up resistance, she'd fold like a lawn chair. Hence why she was hoping to barrel through her argument without interruption. So she constructed her PowerPoint presentation, practiced in front of the mirror, and carefully planned precisely which words she'd use to get Quinn to speak with her; her heart racing all the while.

The diva had shot Quinn a simple text asking if they could speak and the response came an agonizing five minutes later. They agreed, via text, to meet at Lydia's because the dark-haired girl was busy walking dogs so they wouldn't be disturbed; Rachel hadn't even bothered to ask if Quinn would come to the apartment—there were too many memories to have it there. She was also ignoring the excitement she felt every time she saw Quinn name on her phone; that was just a ridiculous reaction she'd have no part of.

But likewise, the blonde felt the same. She knew it was coming, but when she received Rachel's text, saw the diva's name on her phone, her heart raced and everything got tingly.

Quinn gripped the porcelain of the sink's basin as she stared at her reflection. She was psyching herself up for what was about to happen. First; the amazing/painful recollection of Rachel's beauty, second; the lies Rachel would tell to try and convince Quinn she _wasn't _in love with the blonde, and lastly; the agreement to be besties despite the fact that every nerve in Quinn's body would want to scream her love for the diva.

Rachel craned her neck as she slightly twisted on the couch when she heard the bathroom door open, her heart hamming in her chest. The seven hours she had spent making up her PowerPoint of pros and cons, different future scenarios—almost like a choose your own adventure—and a checklist of everything she needed to keep in mind while facing the blonde—namely things like don't kiss her—had been eradicated the moment Quinn came into view. She was _beyond _a vision of beauty, and Rachel swallowed hard to curb the desire to ravish her.

She thought wanting to kiss Quinn would be natural. She figured wanting to reach out and hold her would be an obvious reaction. What Rachel _wasn't _banking on, was the urge to throw the blonde down and rip her clothes off. But that was probably because Rachel didn't know Quinn was only going to be wearing booty shorts and a beater.

Quinn was taking her cue from Siegfried and Roy. She thought that if, perhaps, her attire was on the…_naughty_ side, Rachel would be too distracted to really lay her argument on thick. If the diva was too busy looking left, Quinn would swoop in and make her see right. _So far so good_, Quinn thought as she watched Rachel's wide eyes scan her body. The blonde further wanted to see if Jesse had been right, if Rachel was _really _in love with her. Although, Quinn couldn't tell merely by Rachel's riveted gaze if she was in love, at least she knew the diva found her attractive. That was something, at least.

It also was affording the blonde a moment to take in Rachel's appearance. _She looks tired. And sad…well…mostly she looks kind of horny. Her eyes are so dark. God, I love her lips. Shit, when she licks them like that I just want to-_

_Hey! Why don't you focus! _

_Sorry._

"Hey, Rach." Quinn said softly as she slowly moved towards the couch. No response. "Rach?" The diva's eyelids where hooded. "Rachel!"

Rachel jumped slightly and shook her head as she tore her gaze away from Quinn's breasts. "Q-Quinn. I'm so sorry! I-I don't know where I zoned off to." The diva apologized as she blushed furiously. Quinn hid her smirk as she moved around the couch to take the chair across from Rachel. It felt _amazing _just to be looking at the diva.

"It's okay." The blonde answered evenly as she sat. "It's good to see you, Rach." Again, Rachel was silent. But not because it wasn't good to see Quinn. No, it had more to do with the fact that Quinn parted her thighs slightly before slowly closing them again; just barely showing off the V between her legs.

"Uhhh…" Quinn covered her mouth with her fist to hide her smile. This was almost too easy for the blonde. At this rate, Quinn would get to do all the talking. Just how she wanted it. She couldn't let Rachel catch her stride.

"I'll start than." The blonde gave the confused diva a small smile as she crossed one leg over the other, showing off her toned thighs. "Jesse told me that you lied in the beginning too." _That's right, Fabray, jump right into it. The time for pleasantries will come later, well after Rachel has time to adjust to your revealing outfit. _

"I, uh…" Rachel's words were tripped up now by Quinn's cleavage. The blonde leaned forward slightly to rest her elbow on her knee and the diva could scarcely remove her gaze.

"It's okay. He explained everything to me. We both lied. We both messed up. But, Rach…I care about you." Quinn said softly, reaching out to take the diva's hands within her own.

"I care about you too." Rachel mumbled, lost in Quinn's gaze for a moment before she shook that off and took her hands back. _What are you doing? This is _not _what we rehearsed! _

_I'm getting there, I'm getting there! _

_Get there soon! _

_You try having this conversation when Quinn Fabray is dressed like that! _

_Well you have to lay down the law! Really make her see that Jesus Christ why is she stroking her thigh like that? _

"As I was saying, Rach. I think that we should just start over. A clean slate. I care about you, you care about me; let's start over as friends."

"Uhhh…yeahhhh."

"Great. I'm so glad you agree. We'll continue to live together, I'll still be your agent slash manager slash publicist, and we'll be happy." Quinn stopped rubbing her inner thighs for a moment to let Rachel recover.

The diva cleared her throat and looked down at the carpet for a moment to get her bearings as she tried to remember what the blonde had just said. "Um…" Rachel frowned as she realized what she just agreed to. "Wait…"

"Because, Rach." Quinn went on, not at all concerned by the diva's inability to form words or thoughts as she linked her fingers with Rachel's again. It felt right touching Rachel. Her skin was warm and soft. Just as Quinn remembered. "You are my _best _friend. The past; it doesn't matter to me. What matters is that I can't imagine a day going by without seeing you. This last week has been hell. I don't want to go through another hour of that."

_Say something. _

_Her thumb is caressing my hand. _

_Say something! _

_Her bra is black. _

_SAY SOMETHING! _

"Kay." Rachel muttered demurely as she blushed and bit her lower lip.

_God that lip is so sexy. _

_Her _mouth _is so freaking sexy. _

_I could throw her down on that couch and she wouldn't stop me. _

_Shit, can you imagine how hot that would be if-_

_Quinn, get it together! _

_Sorry! _

The blonde cleared her voice and dropped the diva's hand in an effort to remain vertical. "I, uh…I'm," Quinn felt her face flame as dirty thoughts continued to swirl in her mind. "Everything…happens for a reason," _Keep it together! _"I don't regret lying to you, however, I am sorry if I hurt you because of it, but it brought us here. I got to see what an amazing person you are and I wouldn't take back a moment of the last year and half."

Thoughts were becoming easier to form as Rachel kept her gaze adverted. She had _completely _forgotten every point she was going to make—relationships built on lies can't stand true and so on and so forth—but soaked in Quinn's words.

"I agree." Rachel mumbled, her eyes closed as it hit her what Quinn was saying.

"I want to be perfectly clear so there isn't any confusion; I _want_ to be there for you. Every step of the way. You are my friend first and everything else comes second. We can sign some sort of contract if it makes you feel better. But I want you to trust me. I'll start paying rent. We can split everything down the middle-"

Rachel was shaking her head furiously in an effort to cut Quinn off. "No, Quinn. That's not necessary." Their eyes met and the diva nodded slowly to make Quinn understand. "You're right. We both lied. We'll be friends." _WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? This was _not _a part of the plan!_

"But, Rachel, I can pay rent-"

"I want to make sure you're taken care of." It slipped out before she could stop herself. Rachel was too busy ignoring the voice in her head, trying to cope with the blonde's appearance, all while fighting to recall exactly what her argument had been. She completely forgot herself. Quinn narrowed her eyes in confusion before she smiled softly.

"Rach, I'll be fine if-" Again, Rachel was shaking her head. She would at least remember _one _part of her PowerPoint!

"No! You've taken care of me and now it's my turn." Rachel said as she swallowed painfully at the memories of their past. "We're equals and we should be treated as such." Quinn's smile broadened as the admission. She and Rachel, it appeared, were on the same page. Well…sort of. Jesse had read to Quinn Rachel's PowerPoint presentation so the blonde _knew _what the diva wasn't saying.

Rachel wanted to get separate apartments but still remain in each other's lives. Rachel wanted to see Quinn from time to time but mostly for professional reasons. Rachel wanted to give Quinn _half_ of all her future earnings in an effort to take care of the blonde. Rachel was freaking nuts if she thought Quinn was going to let _any _of that happen. Hence her diversion techniques.

"Great. I'm so happy we're in agreement. Now, on to tomorrow night." Quinn squeezed her breasts together again so she could easily get through this next portion. Rachel's eyes immediately honed in on the action.

"Tomorrow…?" So far it was working.

"Ainsley and Charlene are expecting us to show up as a happy couple. Now, I'm not exactly thrilled about lying to them. And I most certainly don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I think it would be much easier for everyone involved if we just played along. We go, we have a good time, we make some contacts, and we go back to being friends? What do you think?"

"Tomorrow…?"

"Excellent." Quinn smiled.

"Wait…huh?"

Quinn smiled patiently as Rachel finally glanced up to meet her stare. "We'll just pretend for tomorrow, Rach." _Rachel Berry, get your head together and _talk!

"Quinn…do you really think that is such a good idea, I mean-"

"Do you really want to explain why we _aren't_ together?" Quinn asked sadly. Rachel considered that and slowly shook her head. "Rach, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I _really _don't want to make everyone _else _uncomfortable by explaining that our engagement is over."

Again, Rachel nodded. _You are _weak_, Rachel Berry! _

_I said that one thing from the PowerPoint! _

_Weak!_

_Oh, shut up! You were staring at her breasts too! And she's not wrong. In fact, everything she said sounds about right. _

_Do you really think we can live with her again and not fall harder? _

_I don't want to lose her…This week as been hell. _

_We agreed that we'd love her from afar! _

…_But this sounds so much better…_

_Rachel! _

_Oh, be quiet! _

"I think you're right, Quinn." Rachel said softly as she met hazel eyes. She smiled back at the blonde but looked away when the butterflies started. _That was so much easier than I thought it would be! _

_She barely put up any argument! _

_Oh yeah, she loves us! _

_Let's hope so. _

_God, she's adorable. Her gorgeous brown eyes are all glazed over. Her smile is all dopey and cute. I can't believe how amazing it feels just to be speaking to her again. _

_Even that hideous sweater is just precious. _

_I wish I could just…hug the shit out of her right now! _

_Make a note, find a viable reason to hug the shit out of Rachel Berry sometime today. _

_Tackle football? _

_Rachel will never play. _

_I'll work on it. _

"What do you have planned for today?" Quinn asked after a long moment. Rachel shrugged shyly, hoping Quinn wanted to make up for lost time. _Weak! Rachel Berry, You. Are. Weak!_

"No plans."

"Want to go food shopping?"

X

"The part is fascinating, Quinn! I get so lost in the character! Evelyn is this dark, troubled girl who wears all black and smokes Cloves-" Quinn whipped her head around to comment on that, but Rachel cut her off. "Don't worry. I merely _hold _the cigarette, you never actually see me inhale. Anyway! So, Doctor Trevor sees me three times a week. But each day is a different one of the girl's personalities. Monday is little-girl-Evelyn—played by Chris' sister, Ronnie; she's a trip—Wednesday is insane-Evelyn—played by this old woman who talks about sex constantly; it's all very Betty Davis; and then there is Friday, _my _day, where I channel Tina and Santana all rolled up into Lauran Zizes! It's exceptionally challenging!"

_Well…exceptionally challenging is overstating things a bit. Being without Quinn made me miserable. The part came fairly easy. _Rachel conceded.

Quinn smiled and held in her giggle as Rachel batted her hand away from reaching out to grab the toilet paper. Even through the diva's long rants about what she had been up to all week, Rachel wanted to be the one to put each item into the grocery cart.

"It sounds amazing, I can't wait to see it." _I wish I had been there to see you act. Help you with the part. Just be there for you…_

"It's so dark and twisted, Quinn. _So Sundance_. Even if they don't accept _A Date a Month_, they will accept _Which of You, I Love._"

"So I guess Matt hasn't come around on the idea of changing the title to _A Date a Month_?" Quinn asked with a laugh as they cut down aisle ten.

"You know, it's kind of growing on me now." Rachel admitted with a shrug and a smile.

As to be expected, it was both incredibly easy and insanely difficult to be around Quinn. She had missed her so much but longed to be closer to her. She knew it would be hard, but she was suddenly okay with that. Rachel was okay with loving Quinn from afar because the blonde had been right; Quinn was Rachel's best friend as well. She didn't want to be apart from Quinn. It hurt more than having to suppress her feelings.

It felt just so unbelievably good to catch up with Rachel. Everything felt natural. They were talking and laughing and shopping almost as though the previous week never happened at all.

She had _missed _Rachel.

A part of Quinn knew that it wasn't always going to be sunshine and daises; that eventually, reality would smack her in the face. But at that moment, as Rachel bounced up and down and told another story, Quinn didn't care.

If this is what it took—talking and laughing with her best friend; she wasn't kidding, Rachel _was _her best friend—to remain in the diva's life, to slowly show her that Quinn was in love, then she'd gladly do it.

Their bubble was back. But it was a completely different kind than before. Then, in the beginning, the bubble was formed because they _only _had each other. Now it was there because they only wanted each other. As Rachel pushed the shopping cart down each aisle and happily babbled away with a riveted Quinn at her side, they missed the many stock boys, cashiers, and flower and produce guys that tried to get their attention.

_We're shopping for _our_ apartment,_ Quinn thought happily as she smiled and nodded along to what the diva was saying, grinning ear to ear as she watched Rachel's eyes light up as she spoke.

They chatted and crammed in every little detail and story from the past week all throughout their shopping trip. They continued going back and forth—talking nonstop—even as they put their purchases away; they didn't even notice they were back home.

"…And the dog looked _exactly _like Sergeant Peppers that I almost went back and asked the man if the Doberman _was _Sergeant Peppers and if Quinn Fabray was his dog walker." Rachel sighed deeply as she ran her finger around the lip of her empty mug. "But they were already two blocks away and I was still in my makeup from _Which of You, I Love_…I didn't want to scare the man."

_You're not even holding back, Rachel! You're pouring everything out for her to take as though it's okay to be in love with her! She makes it impossible not to open up! _

Quinn smiled softly, her palm resting on her cheek, before she finished the dregs of her own cup. Once the groceries were unpacked, it only seemed natural for them to make a cup of tea and continue talking at the kitchen table.

For the first time since they set out for the store, silence fell between them.

"I really am sorry I lied." Rachel mumbled as she ducked her head. She needed to say it, though.

"Rach, _I'm _the one that that came to you. _I'm _the one that should be really sorry. And I am. I'm _so, _so sorry." They were quiet again as the stared at the kitchen table, both ignoring the desire to reach out and touch the other.

"What happened, Quinn? Why didn't you have any other options?" Rachel eventually asked. It was something that she had wondered ever since Jesse told her the whole truth Quinn had conveyed to the boy.

The blonde blew out a breath and leaned back in her chair. _The truth? Because I only wanted to be with you. But I guess I can't say that, can I? More lies. Just fantastic. _

"I had no other options."

"Nothing?" Rachel whispered in awe, completely confused that the great Quinn Fabray's life resembled Patches, the crazy homeless man in Lima. _I had outs…I just never realized how much I loved you. That everything else paled in comparison. That I was depressed over losing you. I was so blind. _

"Nothing that I could stand to live with." Quinn chose her words carefully. She didn't want to lie if she could help it. Being evasive felt better.

Rachel shook her head sadly. It hurt her to know that the woman she loved was left so alone at one point in time.

"And how about you? New York was _really _that bad?" Quinn whispered, also saddened to picture Rachel miserable and alone. She took a moment to recall how it felt to have no one in New York with her, remembered how desolate it all seemed.

"You know in _Funny Girl_ when Fanny sings _I'm the Greatest Star?_" Rachel asked softly. Quinn smiled fondly and nodded when Rachel glanced up from beneath her bangs to look at the blonde. "Well…the part when she sings, 'I'll blow my horn, till someone blows it,' I guess…I guess I just got tired of blowing my own horn, you know? I had done it every day of high school and it was just so exhausting."

Quinn nodded in understanding. "Is that what you were doing in high school? Blowing your own horn till someone blows it?" The blonde asked with a kind smile, her tone hinting at playful; Rachel's big brown eyes suddenly seemed so sad, Quinn needed to see them lighten.

Quinn's smile got bigger as she saw Rachel's bashful grin. "I suppose."

"You were _very _good at it."

"Oh, shut up." Rachel laughed and tossed a napkin in the blonde's direction. They silently smiled to themselves, pleased that they were in each other's company once again, talking, joking, and laughing. Having a _real _conversation for once.

There would probably be more conversations. Deeper conversations about everything. But right then, it just felt good to be with one another. The diva couldn't help but think of how it all began, though.

Quinn watched as Rachel started to smile. Then, the diva started to chuckle. Finally, Rachel was full-on laughing. "What?" Quinn asked, smiling at the sight. "Why are you laughing?"

Rachel covered her face with her hand as she continued to giggle. "You have no idea how off-guard you caught me that night before graduation."

Quinn cringed in embarrassment as she remembered showing up to the Berrys', wasted, a ranting loon. "I am so sorry about that." The blonde laughed. She laughed harder once tears sprang in Rachel's eyes and the diva's head crashed down on the kitchen table.

"When you kissed me…" Rachel shot back in her chair, arms around her shaking waist, as she recalled how utterly shocked she had been. "Oh my, God, Quinn! I was _speechless_!"

"What can I say, I'm a hell of a kisser." Quinn teased. "You're not so bad yourself." The blonde added in a purr as she bit her lip. Suddenly, Rachel was no longer laughing. Her face slacked as she felt her body grow warm. _Don't look at her lips, Rachel, don't look at her lips! _

"I have to pee." The diva blurted out as she jumped out of her chair and ran to the bathroom. Quinn chuckled, _very _pleased with herself. _You're sick, you know that?_

_What? I can't flirt? _

_That's not the point! The point is to regain her trust and slowly transition friendship into something more. Not torture the poor girl! _

_Oh, you're no fun! _

_I can be fun! _

_You're the part of my brain that joined the Celibacy Club…so _noooo_, I don't think you can be. _

_Please, we were way more sexual in Celibacy Club than we _ever _were _outside _of it!_

_Just go away. I'll flirt if the situation calls for it and you can't stop me. _

_Don't you stick your tongue out at me, Quinn Fabray! _

Ignoring her inner voice, Quinn got up to check the messages on the phone in the kitchen; still pleased with herself for garnering the flushed reaction from the brunette. She listened to Ainsley's message twice to try and get a sober idea of the man's personality so she could be prepared. She was happy to realize that he sounded just as nice as he did the weekend prior. And although she swore to Jesse that when it came to Rachel from now on that she'd be the _real _Quinn, the blonde amended that business was different and she'd have to be ready for Saturday's party. Agent!Quinn.

In the corner, next to the phone, the mail was piled up, neglected. Quinn casually flicked through the stack, aware that they were all addressed to her, but halted as she eyed the large white envelope that bore NYU's name and insignia. Curious, Quinn picked it up and flicked her finger to open it.

She wasn't exactly sure she was reading it correctly. She wasn't even aware that her heart was thudding loudly as her mouth hung open.

"'_Congratulations, Ms. Fabray. You have been accepted into the graduating class of…'" _Quinn's eyes flew across the page as she tried to let each word penetrate her confusion. Words and phrases like, "reviewed your appeal," and "scholarship," stuck out as though they were typed in bold-faced ink.

"Quinn? Do you know where we keep…" Rachel trailed off as she stood in the archway of the kitchen. The blonde's face was pale and she appeared a mixture between astonished and baffled. The diva took note of the discarded NYU envelope sitting on the counter and bit her lip as she waited for the fall-out of Quinn's reaction. The blonde was temperamental when it came to things like these. She could either be ecstatic or her pride could be bruised. Rachel seriously hoped it was the former because she couldn't bear to go without the blonde now that they were talking again.

Slowly, Quinn looked up from the letter to gaze at Rachel in wonderment. "_You _did this?" She breathed out, the paper shaking slightly because of her trembling hands. Rachel nodded softly and waited. Quinn glanced back at the paper as she tried to figure it all out. "This second page, it's from the billing department. It says my first semester is already taken care of. Wha- how…" Quinn shook her head.

"I went to speak to them, pretending to be you, of course." Rachel admitted in a rush. "I explained my…_your_ situation and all you've done since you left Lima. I was able to get you a bigger scholarship along with some grants."

Quinn placed a quivering hand against her forehead as she fought to catch up. "How did you manage to do all that? You'd need…you'd need my social, expenditures, transcripts—Rachel…how did you do all this?"

Rachel bit her lip harder as she moved further into the kitchen. "Well…Quinn, you have a rather…_distinctive _voice. For the most part, it was all quite easy. I simply called McKinley, disguising my voice as yours, and used them. And…I may have…snooped a tad to procure your social as well as some other…_financial_ information that one would require."

"I- so-" Quinn glanced towards Rachel hopefully. "Am I going to school?" A soft smile appeared on Rachel's face as she stepped closer.

"If that's what you want."

"But-what about you? I mean…Julliard and-"

"I know that school makes you happy. And you can't be a real agent if you don't have _some _education. I mean, if you don't _want _to go to school, I'll still hire you." Rachel said as her smile widened. "I just thought, perhaps, _you'd _enjoy it. And maybe, one day, you'd be able to obtain more clients. Not just Jesse, Mercedes, and myself."

Quinn covered her mouth with her palm before she ran her fingers through her hair; slowly understanding what this all meant—what it _could _mean. "I can't believe you did this. And not _just _this…Mercedes, too." Quinn swallowed back the words of love and closed her eyes to remain composed. "_Thank you_, Rachel." She whispered, not bothering to cover up her tears.

Rachel smiled, pleased that Quinn was happy and would be able to chase her dreams. "Don't thank me, Quinn," Rachel whispered. The blonde opened her eyes to gaze into the diva's. The moment was heavy with tension; both girls dying to say what their heart was screaming. It was _too _heavy for Rachel. "Just make me famous!" She winked and gave her patent Rachel Berry smile before she spun away and out of the kitchen. Her heart thudded as she heard Quinn's laughter.

Things weren't so easy as the night wore on, however. Now that everything was squared away, lies out in the open, the realization that Quinn would be spending the night in the apartment weighed heavily on them both; for obvious reasons.

It was well past midnight, both girls exhausted, but they continued to watch TV, wide-eyed and ramrod straight on the couch, completely unaware of what was playing on screen. There was a healthy distance between them, but both swore silently that they could feel the heat radiating off the other's body as they sat. It was distracting.

Would they share the bed? What excuse would they use to avoid it? Did they want to avoid it? If they were both _only _friends, it would be silly _not _to share. Having one of them crash on the couch would practically be an admission of attraction. But sharing a bed, being that close to one another and _not _being able to touch…simultaneously, both girls swallowed thickly at the idea of accidentally brushing up against the other in bed.

Sheer torture came to mind.

_Do we change in front of each other still? _

_We can't do that? I'll completely lose my cool! I see her ankle and my brain turns to mush! _

_Her legs _are _heavenly. _

_Sliding my hand up them…mmmmm, Raaachel!_

_Knock it off! _

Rachel was having similar problems.

_What if…what if I wake up in the middle of the night lying on top of her? What if I accidentally start kissing her in my sleep? Oh, God, what if _she _starts to kiss me in her sleep? What if we were naked, and we were kissing each other in our sleep? _

_What are you talking about?_

_Huh? Oh! Um…nothing. _

When infomercials started to play, both girls turned at the exact same time to see if the other was still awake. They caught each other's gaze and hastily looked away. _Why is this so awkward? _

_Because you want to ravish her body, Fabray! _

_But she doesn't know that. I'll just…_casually _get up, stretch and yawn, and say I'm sleepy. I'll change quickly and slip into bed and everything will be fine. _

_Sure. _

_Okay… here I go. _

"Well I'm exhausted." Rachel said, just as Quinn stood. _Shit! She stole my line! _

_Well then, come up with another one! _

"Um…me too." Quinn mumbled. _That wasn't a very good line, Quinn! _

_Well I'm already standing! What was I supposed to say? _

"I suppose…we…should…go to bed, then, huh?" Rachel asked quickly as she felt her face heat up.

"I suppose so." Quinn answered uncomfortably. Rachel slowly rose and followed Quinn into the bedroom. They quietly pulled out clothes to change into from their separate drawers and stalled for time. _We've always changed in front of each other, it would be weird if I turned my back. _

_Are you _honestly _prepared to see her naked right now? _Quinn didn't answer her inner voice, instead, she slowly peeled off her sundress and kept her eyes fixed on the carpet below her feet. _Oh, God, I can see her in my peripheral! She hasn't even taken her clothes off yet and I'm a mess! _

Rachel was slightly turned, but she too could see Quinn from the corner of her eyes. She swallowed with difficulty as she tried to block out the image of the blonde in only her bra and panties. She distracted herself with removing her skirt, completely aware of the overwhelming silence that hung in the air.

The sound of Rachel's skirt hitting the floor echoed around the bedroom. _This is ridiculous! _Quinn sighed as she gripped her t-shirt in her sweaty hands. _Why do I care right now? I'm in love with her, _she's _the one that wants to deny her feelings. _She's _the one that needs time. Maybe a little nudity will do her some good. Move things along a bit._

_Torture her, you mean?_

_Don't take that tone with me! I'm very aware that I have hurt her, in the past and also recently. So, yeah, I'm responsible with how closed-up she is. But that doesn't change the fact that she has feelings for me. If…by chance, showing a little skin, flirting a little, being a tad too affectionate will help her see reason…so be it. Do you have any idea how difficult it is not kiss the life out of her for what she did for me? I'm going to college! I'm about to start my career! And it's all because of Rachel. _

_So…what are you going to do? _

_Well for starters…screw it! I'm taking off my bra! _

_Oh, Jesus, heeeere we go…_

Rachel was just slipping her t-shirt over her head when she caught movement. She wasn't exactly sure why Quinn was just standing there, unmoving in her bra and panties, allowing Rachel time to ogle and salivate in desperation, but she wasn't about to alert the blonde to that fact.

But now that she was ready for bed, unable to stall further, the diva turned fully ready to jump into bed. At the sight of Quinn's breasts, however, everything screeched to a halt.

True, they had changed in front of each other numerous times in the last year and a half. But they've never been _naked _in front of the other. On March thirteenth, twenty-twelve, Rachel had caught sight of Quinn's butt for a fleeting moment when the blonde's towel slipped. On August seventh, twenty-thirteen, Quinn got a peek of Rachel's left nipple when her shirt got a little too low. She was later treated with a full-body shot that one time they had been making out on the couch and the blonde had the moment memorized. But Rachel Berry had never been privy to such a treat before.

Her life was now fully altered.

_Oh sweet, Mother Mary…_

_Advert your eyes! Advert your eyes! Abort mission! Abort, I say! _

_Tagoeohoggg. Breasts. Quinn's breasts. Full. Perky. Creamy. Alluring. Supple. Yummy. Breasts. _

_Okay…I think living with Quinn is going to be difficult. _

_Nipples. Soft. Pink. Hard. Nipples. _

_For the love of, God, at least wipe your chin! _

Quinn was quite pleased with herself. Not only did she have Rachel's full attention, but she was surprised with how comfortable she felt half-naked in front of the diva. She was a very private person, but somehow it just excited her knowing that Rachel was staring. When she remained naked as long as possible, Quinn slipped her t-shirt on and bent over slightly to pull up her shorts.

"Ready for bed?" Quinn purred, her dark eyes gazing at Rachel. The diva squeaked slightly, her wide eyes anxiously staring back at the blonde, before she nodded with a jerk. "Okay, then." Quinn said with a smile as she made her way over to the bed.

Rachel was seriously hoping her gay wasn't showing. She was also hoping Quinn wouldn't ask why she was breathing like she just ran a mile. Or hear her racing heart. Or question her on her flushed face. Or why she was shaking as she peeled back the covers and slipped awkwardly into bed, on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

Quinn felt like laughing. And a bit like sobbing. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were acting exactly as they had the very first night Quinn got to New York. But so much had changed since then. But…at the same time, the blonde still felt immense gratitude towards the diva. Rachel had saved her then, and she was saving her now. She had a friend in Mercedes again. She had a new future in front of her. She had the diva at her side. Just by being there, Rachel was saving her.

_Yeah, I don't really want to look for an excuse_.

Quinn rolled over and took Rachel into her arms, surrounding the diva fully as she hugged her close. "Thank you so much, Rach. For everything." Quinn breathed out as she clung to the diva, taking in the feel of Rachel in her arms, her scent, the complete feeling she got from holding her.

Rachel's eyes slid shut as she too enjoy the closeness. _Wouldn't have minded if she hugged me a little earlier…sans shirt, but this is nice. Sigh. Cozy. I feel all warm and tingly. She smells like pretty. Is that a scent? Pretty? That's what Quinn smells like. _

_So this is you loving her from afar? _

"You're welcome, Quinn." Rachel whispered as she pulled away slowly. The overwhelming desire to turn back into the blonde's arms was painful, but she refrained. If not being held by her was hard, she couldn't imagine spending the whole night in Quinn's embrace and _not _being able to touch her in some small way; a kiss, a caress…best to keep her distance.

It didn't change the fact that they woke up in the morning in each other's arms. Rachel would end up walking with a limp days later, still smarting from falling off the bed in her haste to dislodge herself. She also ended up with a slight bump on her head where she knocked it on the end table when Quinn had asked if she wanted the blonde to kiss it and make it all better. 

X

Rachel Berry, Quinn Fabray, and Jesse St. James all stood outside the giant penthouse apartment of Ainsley and Charlene Swaine in their Sunday best, nervous messes. The diva's long, chestnut-brown locks were swept back into a sleek ponytail to reveal understated touches of makeup that paired nicely with the navy-blue long-sleeved, high-necked dress that reached mid-thigh. The dress had been a compromise between her and Quinn. Fashionable, yet Rachel. The diva felt that the silver belt that looped around the dress was a tad overboard, but loved the limp bow around the neckline. That was Quinn's least favorite part.

The blonde was a vision of an Ice Queen in her long, white pea coat that she matched with dark leggings and high, white heeled boots that laced up just below her knees. The green tunic underneath her coat made her appear seven feet tall and the picture of poise. Her long, curled hair was tamed by a simple clip as it swept over her exposed shoulder where the tunic slid off the round of her shoulder.

Jesse was wearing clothes too.

"Are we ready?" Quinn breathed out as she stood between the two brunettes.

"Absolutely!" They both said at the same time getting the blonde to smirk. But no one moved to knock. Quinn smiled as she watched Rachel rotate the diamond ring that was back on her finger as she bit her lip nervously. Quinn had noticed the ring's absence the day before but took relief in the fact that it had winked back at her from around Rachel's throat. She was equal parts sad and happy that the diva didn't remove it completely.

"Okay." Quinn breathed out before she raised her hand and knocked firmly. Charlene answered not a moment later and smiled when she saw them.

"Hello! It's so good to see you again!" She hugged them all and kissed their cheeks twice before standing aside to let them in. They shucked off their jackets for her to take and took in the high-ceiling apartment that was exquisitely decorated in a modern decorum. "Wine, champagne, beer, liquor? What can I get you?" Charlene asked sweetly as she slipped a loose strand of red hair behind her ear as she led them towards the party.

Wisely, Quinn refused alcohol in favor for sparkling water while Charlene rushed to retrieve Jesse's beer and Rachel's champagne.

The Swaine's living room was about the size of Rachel and Quinn's apartment. They had the whole top floor of the penthouse and it was currently occupied with nearly a dozen people of all ages. "Here you go," Charlene said with a grin as she handed over the beverages. "There are some hors d'oeuvres scattered about the room," She said as they all faced the party; her voice slightly raised over the light jazz music. "Help yourself. Dinner will be along shortly. In the mean time, Ainsley will be delighted to see you, so say hi before you mingle." Charlene squeezed Rachel's arm affectionately before she took off for the kitchen.

"What should we do?" Rachel asked softly as she eyed the bustling room. She was excited to meet and speak to all the different people there. They appeared, at first glance, to have nothing to link them all together. She, Quinn, and Jesse were hardly the youngest in the crowd, but surely Ainsley couldn't be the oldest. A bald-headed man who looked like he was in his late seventies was animatedly talking to a middle-aged woman as she leaned against a wooden credenza. A guy no older than Rachel was in deep conversation with a woman that's height rivaled Finn's. And a small group of mismatched individuals crowded around the hors d'oeuvres conversating lightly.

"I suppose we should say hello to Ainsley and then split up." Quinn said confidently as she laced her fingers with Rachel before she took off in the man's direction. The diva bit her lip at the feel of Quinn's hand in hers again. It made her smile. And she couldn't help but feel like the most important person in the room because of it.

"Well, hello!" Ainsley cheered as he parted from his group. He eagerly shook Jesse's hand before he turned to the two young women; placing a kiss on both their cheeks'. "So happy you could make it! Jesse, see that man over there in the tweed jacket looking pompous?" Ainsley asked as he discreetly looked across the room at the man in question; he was currently trying to get tartar sauce off his white button-down. "His name is Thomas Longmore and if you mention you went to UCLA, he'll adore you for life."

"Thank you, sir." Jesse said with a smile before he took off towards the man.

"Ladies!" Ainsley grinned. "You both look simply striking this evening."

"Thank you, Mr. Swaine." Rachel responded politely.

"None of that, Rachel. You must call me Ainsley. If for nothing more than the fact you saw me behave like a drunken, old buffoon last Saturday." The girls traded smiles as they laughed. "Rachel, dear, you see that woman over there who appears to forgotten her personality?"

"I see no such woman, Ainsley." Rachel replied with a disarming grin that made Quinn's eyes light up. Ainsley chuckled back appreciatively before he cleared his throat.

"Naturally. My sincerest apologies for my slipup. What I _meant _to say, is see that beautiful woman over there that may or may not be uptight? Please go inform her of your experiences at Julliard. And if you find an opening, casually mention _A Sweetness_."

Rachel smiled up at the man in thanks before she turned hesitantly towards Quinn. She didn't want to leave the blonde. She also didn't want be without her; Rachel was nervous. "You'll be fine." Quinn said warmly as she trailed one finger down Rachel's suddenly red-hot cheek. The diva nodded back, slightly dazed, before she took a breath, squared her shoulders, and took off towards her mission.

"Rachel will be more than fine. Desimee will adore her bubbly personality." Ainsley and Quinn stood shoulder to shoulder as they silently watched the scene unfold. Jesse seemed to be getting along well with Thomas and Rachel already had the stony Desimee smiling.

Ainsley himself carted Quinn around to the different people. She shook hands, kissed cheeks, and laughed when appropriate with everyone she met. The collective theme for the evening, it appeared, was Broadway. Everyone there, in some way or another, was associated with the stage: producers, composers, directors, actors, writers. Quinn, Rachel, and Jesse were definitely the odd men out.

"So tell me, Quinn. What University do you study at?" A tall, lanky man asked as he sipped his bourbon. The blonde cleared her throat as she arranged her features.

"I adjunct at Julliard but will get my degree from NYU." The man _ahhhh_ backed, seemingly impressed. To say she adjunct at Julliard was slightly pressing it, but Quinn _did _know many of the professors and took a good deal of classes. No, she hadn't paid for, but Rachel's fathers did. That counted, right?

"Well I must be off." He said with a smile as he tossed back the rest of his drink before inspecting his watch. "Almost seven, jeez, my partner won't be pleased with me." The man grimaced before chuckling. "It was an absolute, charming pleasure meeting you, Ms. Fabray. He's my card. If any of your clients are interested in revivals, do call." The man grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek before going to say goodbye to their hosts.

Confused, Quinn glanced around and noticed that everyone seemed to be getting ready to leave as well. "Ainsley said dinner was at seven, correct, Quinn?" Rachel asked in confusion as she slipped up beside the blonde and watched as Desimee and Thomas both got into their coats at the door.

Quinn nodded and turned towards the approaching Jesse. "Where's everyone going?"

The boy shrugged; he too thought it was a dinner party.

The three of them were about to retrieve their coats as well, but Charlene caught their attention. "Not to worry. Dinner is on schedule."

"But everyone is leaving." Rachel said as the last guest left, all save another young man who looked just as confused as they did.

"They were here for the appetizers." Charlene said with a smile, her eyes twinkling. "The three of you and Julian Schein were the only ones asked to dinner." She explained mysteriously. "Please continue to chat while Ainsley and I prepare the meal."

Jesse ventured over to Julian as the girls turned toward one another. "So how's your night going so far?" Quinn asked as she eyed the diva carefully. She had watched Rachel's progress over the last hour. Every time she sought out the diva, Rachel appeared to be entranced in whatever conversation she was having.

"Splendid!" Rachel gushed with a smile. "Desimee asked me all sorts of questions about the play and the movies and even glee club!" Quinn smiled, loving how excited Rachel seemed.

"And you? I noticed that Ainsley had you working the room." Rachel said with a smile. In truth, Rachel found it difficult to take her eyes off the blonde. The confidence she had exuded as she spoke to the different individuals was sexy and alluring. Agent!Quinn had it going on.

"Very informative." Quinn answered mysteriously with a smirk. She had made _a lot _of contacts. Business cards had been handed to her left and right. She felt confident that Rachel would be working soon.

"Dinner is ready!" Charlene announced from the living room doorway. The foursome followed her into a large dining room that was open and as modernly decorated as the rest of the apartment.

They all took a seat in a high-backed, cream chair and glanced around unsurely. Ainsley and Charlene sat at the head of both ends of the table, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. Their hosts smiled at each other secretively, before Charlene nodded to her husband.

"Every once and a while, Charlene and I like to hold a get together for upcoming talent. A way for them to make contacts in the hopes that their careers can flourish."

"Ainsley and I believe that you four are such up and comers. Julian, your performance in _True Paradise _was magnificent. We thought it was fitting to introduce you and Mr. St. James to Thomas because he is about to take over directing the European sensation _Dance Trio _come the New Year. Jesse, you were wonderful in _A Sweetness _and knew instantly that you'd fit right in to Thomas' vision." Both boys nodded in understanding, but not quite sure what they were getting out.

"My wife and my suspicions were accurate. Thomas adored you both and I wouldn't be surprised if you received a call tomorrow to come in and audition for the part."

"For _Dance Trio?_" Julian asked, his French accent slight.

"Exactly. The tour starts in England and eight weeks later you'll be back in the States." Ainsley said with a boyish grin. Jesse's wide eyes found Rachel's first before he glanced at Quinn.

"And is _Dance Trio _a promising act?" Quinn inquired, getting into work-mode. Ainsley and Charlene shared a pleased smile before they turned to her.

"_Very. _Broadway material. The current cast is lacking and Jesse and Julian will be the perfect additions to really make the show. Thomas left a script for you perusal." Ainsley added, looking directly at the blonde. Quinn nodded once, straining to keep her expression professional.

"Less business, more eating." Charlene said before she winked at Rachel. The couple didn't want to discuss what they had planned for the diva in front of Jesse and Julian.

An hour later, Ainsley lead everyone to his study for Brandy and coffee. The dark wooded room felt rustic homey and everyone found a seat to continue chatting. "Quinn? A word?" Ainsley requested as he motioned over to two chairs by the fire. The blonde followed and noted that they were set apart from the other four.

"Did you enjoy your evening?" He asked with a smile from around his tumbler of Brandy.

"Immensely. Thank you so much for inviting us. Rachel is over the moon."

"Of course, of course. I know talent, and she's got it in spades." Beside his leather chair, Ainsley reached into a box that sat on top of the end table and procured a cigar. He silently asked Quinn if she wanted one and she shook her head as she waited for him to stop puffing on it and get down to whatever it was that he wanted to speak to her about.

"Charlene and I have been together for over forty years, Quinn. That's a long time." He finally said, his gaze fixed on hers.

"Yes it is; you should be very proud."

"Indeed I am. We both are. Loyalty. That's important. Standing beside the one you love and cherish."

"I couldn't agree more." Quinn replied, her eyes finding Rachel's from across the room as the diva chatted with Charlene. They traded smiles before they directed their attention back to their respective host.

"See. That right there. You immediately look to her. And she immediately felt your eyes and sought you out. That's what I'm talking about." Quinn stared back at him, slightly puzzled.

"I don't understand-" Ainsley leaned forward in his chair to survey the girl.

"There was a time when Broadway wasn't just about making money and getting famous. It wasn't just a way to get onto TV or films. People wanted to just be on stage and perform. Rachel has that passion for the stage."

Quinn nodded, still not quite sure what he was getting at. "Her dream has always been performing on the stage."

"Her passion for Broadway is what intrigued me about her from the beginning. But there are a lot of actors out there that feel the same. What sets Rachel apart from all the others, Quinn, isn't her drive, her talent, or her love of the stage, but you."

Quinn narrowed her eyes as she bit her lip. Now she was _really _lost. "I'm not quite sure…"

"I wrote a play. A musical." Ainsley said. He looked as excited as a boy on Christmas. "Charlene and I did. We wrote the dialogue, the songs, and the music!"

"I thought you only offered financial support?"

"And in the past I have." His enthusiasm was obvious. He tipped even further in his chair. "But what most don't know, is for the last twenty years, Charlene and I have been working on our musical. The story of our love. What we've been through together!"

Quinn nodded again and tried to keep up with his fast pace. "We've met with the best composers, the best writers, the best directors, and we think it's finally finished. Our dream of seeing the story of us performed on stage!"

"That's so romantic." Quinn smiled.

"We're fit to be tied over it! But the hard part is still to come. We were able to use our own money to get the ball rolling and we know enough producers to find the rest of the backing. We have a venue and crew…now all we need are actors." _Oh my, God!_

"We know what's out there. We've held auditions. Spoke to people in the know. And we have most of the casting done." Suddenly Ainsley went quiet as he smiled bashfully. "I have to admit, however, _some _casting is proving a tad trickier.

"I should have known that casting a woman to play my wife would be difficult." He chuckled ruefully as he pulled hard on his cigar. "After all, it took me two years to come up with a name for the character! When we saw Rachel perform in _A Sweetness, _both my wife and I were excited. But…"

Ainsley trailed off as he searched for the right words. Now Quinn was on the edge of her seat. "You have to understand the position we're in. The musical is _very _personal to us. This isn't just _some _story. It's our love story! How we met, how we fell in love, the trials we've faced. I don't feel comfortable leaving that in the hands of just some young actress hungry for her big break!"

"I understand completely," Quinn rushed out, dying to hear what he'd say next. "It's very personal."

"Yes! To watch someone not take the role of my wife, my _love, _seriously, would taint it for me."

"You want someone who respects the role and treats it reverently." Her heart was racing.

"Exactly!" He gushed as he pointed the cigar at her. "Someone who understands the story because they are in midst of their _own _love story. Someone who will respect it as though it were their own. Someone who knows of loyalty and will be honored to play a role so near and dear to my heart!"

_Someone like Rachel! _

"Someone like your Rachel." Now that it was said, Quinn felt lightheaded. She reminded herself to breath and remained composed.

"I can't speak for Rachel," Quinn said slowly. "But I know that she takes loves stories very seriously. She takes people's emotions _very _seriously."

"And after speaking to you both, getting to know her, we both agree that she does. The way she looks at you, the way you look at each other…it's very moving." He said with a soft smile. Quinn blushed, unaware that they were so obvious but not surprised. She had felt Rachel's eyes on her all night.

"Sometimes the best shows spring success _not _only because of the performances and the quality of show, but from the personal feelings involved. It has often been argued that _Rent _wouldn't have been the success it had been, if it were not for the love and loyalty the cast and crew felt towards Jonathan Larson. His death connected each and every person who performed, or who would _ever _perform in it." Quinn nodded, familiar with his story; Rachel made her watch the _Rent_ documentary.

"Charlene and I feel that she will be perfect for the part. She's telling her right now." Quinn's head whipped around just as Rachel's wide eyes turned in the blonde's direction. The diva looked gobsmacked. "And by your fiancé's reaction, I believe my wife has just informed her."

Quinn was unaware of the fact that Jesse and Julian were no longer there. She could barely catch up. Rachel had just been offered a part in a Broadway show. A Broadway show that had the most influential people in the business connected to it. She had no words.

"Ahhh, getting around to business are you?" Charlene asked as she approached, a stunned diva at her side.

"Yes, just gave Quinn the news." Ainsley smiled as his wife took a seat on his lap.

"Well I just gave some news of my own to Rachel." The diva's eyes were still wide as she collapsed into the chair beside Quinn's. The blonde's eyebrow rose at Rachel's expression. _Why doesn't she look more excited? She looks like she's just seen a ghost. _

"Oh did you? I thought we agreed to tell them together?" Ainsley asked with a chuckle and kissed his wife's cheek. Rachel's wide eyes looked at Quinn. Sheer panic was reflected in the brown.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked carefully, unsure as to why Ainsley and Charlene were so pleased while Rachel looked on the verge of freaking out.

"I was just explaining to Rachel what my newest hobby is, isn't that right, Rachel?" The diva nodded tersely with a fake, pained smile. "Yes, we were talking about your engagement and she was explaining that you two aren't financially in a place to get married yet. She doesn't have a steady job and the like." Charlene explained, still grinning madly.

Again, Quinn looked to Rachel. It was obvious that the diva was trying to tell the blonde something with her eyes.

"And I was just informing Quinn of our newest creative endeavor. It seems as though they make lovely parallels, am I right, Charlene?" The red-headed smiled lovingly at her husband and nodded.

Sensing Rachel's growing panic, Quinn turned back to the couple. "What exactly is your newest hobby, Charlene?" The woman smiled excitedly and clapped her hands.

"Well, Quinn. First I think it's important to tell Rachel about the musical."

"Yes! Rachel, dear, we would officially like to offer you a role in our soon to be Broadway hit!" A peal of laughter erupted from the diva's tightly closed lips. That wasn't at all the reaction Quinn was expected.

"See dear," Charlene gushed. "Now you have a steady job!"

"Hmm." Rachel hummed as she bobbed her head, eyes still wide and fearful, smile still fake and uncomfortable. Quinn was at a loss. Why was Rachel acting so strangely? All her dreams were coming true.

"Forgive me," Charlene amended with a girlish giggle. "I'm just so excited!"

"It's an exciting time!" Ainsley added with a hearty laugh. "The musical will start, Rachel will be a star, and in the meantime, Quinn, you'll have some planning to do!"

Quinn had no idea what was going on. Planning? For what?

"I'm sorry…planning?" Rachel shot her another anxiety-ridden look as she sat stiffly in her chair.

"Well yes, dear. My hobby." Charlene smiled again and paused dramatically before she squealed in delight. "I'm a wedding planner!"


	10. Chapter 10 The Wedding Singer

Chapter Ten: The Wedding Singer

Quinn knew how she should act. She knew what she was expected to say. She also knew that everyone was staring at her, waiting, for that moment when her facial expressions would take on an excited manifestation as though what she had just heard was the greatest news she could ever receive. But let's face it, if Rachel Berry couldn't get it up, how the hell was Quinn Fabray going to be able to fake enthusiasm.

She was aware that beside her, Rachel's face was contorted into an expression somewhere between, "We're Fucked!" and "Yay! I can marry my fake fiancé!" This did not bode well for Quinn. Cause that meant she'd have to make up the difference. She could easily pass Rachel's reaction off as shock. But her own wide eyes, dropped jaw, and swirling astonishment had to be accounted for. Which meant words had to be used at some point. In fact, she was almost positive that words had been expected a full minute beforehand. But the silence stretched on.

There they were: Ainsley; grinning broadly, gaze ping ponging between the two girls in wait, Charlene; smile frozen in a way that revealed each one of her perfectly white teeth; Rachel; her eyes saucers as she stared down a speeding train that no one could see but her as she stood on the tracks, and Quinn; her lips quivering as though she was trying to taste letters, one eye twitching, swallowing down yelps of negation.

"That's……" _Say something soon, you're starting to sound like the girl from The Grudge! _

But Quinn could only shake her head like a psychotic bobble head. So, instead, she mustered up the tightest smile imaginable and jumped to her feet before throwing herself on her hosts like Christmas just came early. She hugged and jumped and made some weird sound that could _pass _as a squeal. Mostly she just buried her head in Charlene's shoulder so no one could see the sheer terror on her face.

Rachel watched the scene and realized she should be a part of it. Quinn Fabray acting excited was the most awkward thing she had ever witnessed. With grand difficulty, the diva gathered her forces and begged her inner-actress to do something. Rachel released a tinkering giggle that she knew sounded forced but joined the hugging/jumping huddle anyway. Words were being thrown around like, "excited," and "soon," and "the biggest day of your life." The diva's eyes caught Quinn's and they traded horrified glances but kept up their act long after the hugging stopped, the exchange of meeting times made, and both girls were helped into their coats.

Their fake smiles were fixed to their faces like clowns and they couldn't shake the stretch of their lips even after their silent elevator ride to the ground floor and the painfully quiet cab ride back to their apartment. They stoically walked down the hallway to their apartment door, still moving in astonishment, and were greeted with the sight of Jesse standing there waiting for them.

"Jesus, what took you guys so long? What did they want to talk to you about? You need to read this script. It's remarkable! No, not just remarkable, it's flawless. I'm leaving for Europe in a week's time! Can you believe that? Thomas has already phoned to set up a time to meet tomorrow to discuss everything. Things are moving so quickly! I spoke to Julian and we've already worked out who is going to play who. I even started memorizing lines, can you believe tonight! I can't! Unbelievable! Ms. Fabray, never let it be said that you are not the best agent in the whole freaking world because if you never did that manipulative thing you do so well and got all buddy, buddy with Ainsley and Charlene, I wouldn't be planning a trip to Europe and about to be in a Broadway musical that is expected to explode!"

Jesse's large smile began to slip away as he noticed the frozen grins on both girls' faces. Neither was moving to unlock the apartment door. They just stood there. Side by side. Tight, strained smiles painted uncomfortably, as they stared at him. "What the hell is up with you two? You look creepy."

"We're getting married!" Rachel had barely moved her lips to speak. The smile was still there, but now, panic was clearly evident in her dark eyes. Jesse looked between the two with one quirked eyebrow.

"That's fantastic." Jesse deadpanned. "Now stop smiling like that; you look like the girls in _The Shining._"

"No. We're _actually _getting married." Quinn gritted out between her teeth. "Soon. Charlene is a wedding planner." Jesse's eyes slid from one girl to the other several times; slowly realizing what they had said and what it all meant. Then, suddenly, Jesse threw back his head and roared with laughter.

He couldn't stop even if he wanted to, which he didn't. It was all so deliciously hilarious in its irony. They were engaged to be married before they even _liked_ one another. And now that they truly loved each other, they were being forced into marriage. Jesse rested his hands on his knees and he bent over to continuing laughing. He was almost sad that he'd be going to Europe now; he _really _wanted to see every moment of this play out.

"Oh, shut up, Jesse!" Rachel barked as she walked passed him, kicking him in the shin as she went.

"I hate you, St. James." Quinn grumbled, catching his chest with her shoulder. It didn't deter his delight in the slightest. He massaged his chest with a smile as both girls lumbered into the apartment before collapsing onto the living room couch.

"What? It's hilarious! You have to admit that this is amusing!" They glared at him as he entered the apartment and stood before them.

"It's not hilarious, Jesse. It's the _opposite _of hilarious." Quinn sneered. "Ainsley offered Rachel the lead in his musical that he and his wife co-wrote."

"Are you serious?" Jesse blanched.

"Yes, I'm serious." Quinn bit out. Rachel's head fell back against the arm of the couch in despair. It figured that the biggest role of her life was just within reach and she'd have to decline. She felt drained and depressed. She slipped her heels off and drew her legs up onto the couch so that they rested across the blonde's lap. Quinn absentmindedly began to massage the diva's feet as Rachel explained.

"Ainsley all but said he was giving me the part because of Quinn and my relationship." Rachel mumbled sadly.

"No! He said that he appreciates loyalty, Rach. You're talent speaks for itself; our relationship made his decision final because the role is so personal to him." Quinn rejoined.

"Well it doesn't matter, does it? It's not like I can accept." Rachel curled into herself as she grieved for the part she _almost _had.

Jesse's eyes narrowed as he watched the pair. Quinn's eyes closed tightly but she continued to massage Rachel's feet as she took deep breathes through her nose. Rachel was on the verge of tears but kept them at bay; she looked completely stricken.

"Ms. Fabray…would you mind helping me in the kitchen?" Jesse asked loftily.

"Yes, I'd mind." Quinn answered dryly as she switched to Rachel's right foot, eyes still closed. Without further ado, Jesse grabbed Quinn's free hand and jerked her to her feet. "What the hell!" The blonde jeered as Jesse dragged her to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Jesse whispered heatedly, inches away from Quinn's face. "You can't let her give up this part! Ainsley is the most well-connected man in Broadway; this thing is going to be _huge_!"

"You don't think I know that!" Quinn whispered back angrily. "Do you have any idea how much I want to do this for her? I'd marry her even if she was offered the part as a mid-level performer for Murder Mystery Theatre!"

"Then why aren't you saying anything?"

"_You're _the one that told me to take it slow with her! _Marriage _is _hardly _slow, Jesse!"

"You can take it slow _after _the wedding!"

Quinn quirked an eyebrow. "Do you ever listen to yourself when you speak?" She asked slowly.

"So, what…you're just going to let her give up this part because it's going to affect your real relationship?"

"Rachel will never go for it!"

"Let me worry about that, Fabray. Just follow my lead." Jesse went to leave the kitchen but Quinn caught him by the elbow and spun him back around.

"What are you doing?"

"Is Rachel it for you? Is she the woman you love and want to spend the rest of your life with?"

"Of course she is; you _know_ that." Quinn murmured with venom.

"Well Rachel already admitted to me that despite the fact that your relationship is 'fake,' she isn't going to be searching for any Mrs. or Mr. Rachel Berrys _ever_."

"Because she's in love with _me_, yes, I know."

"Exactly. Because she's in love with you. What is going to change? You two get married, she gets the part, and you both continuing doing what you've been doing for the last year and half. Marriage isn't going to change that!"

"But- Jesse! Come _back_ here!" Quinn hissed as Jesse all but ran from the kitchen.

"Rachel, I think I have a solution!" Jesse said proudly, his arms akimbo as he stared down at the diva. Rachel's dark eyes flickered up towards him before dropping down at the floor.

"Leave me alone, Jesse." Rachel didn't want to hear any plans. Her loss wasn't just for the musical. It also brought back the heartbreaking realization that she wasn't with Quinn. In a different reality, perhaps, she'd have Quinn and the show. Here, she had neither.

"Come here." Quinn whispered as she tugged at Rachel's hand. When she followed Jesse into the living room, she had seen how it was all affecting Rachel. It was plainly written on the diva's face and it broke her heart.

Rachel went willingly until her head was nestled against Quinn's chest with the blonde's arms around her. It made everything bearable to have Quinn hold her like this, but hurt badly at the same time.

Jesse watched the two and felt even more resolved. This was for their own good. If he had to be the villain, the bad guy, the person who made the hard choices and suggested the seemingly implausible, so be it.

"You two are getting married." Rachel scoffed at Jesse. "No, hear me out."

"If you're about to suggest that Quinn and I wed, you can save your breath." Rachel huffed.

"Why?"

"Why, what?" Rachel asked as she sat up slightly.

"Why should I save my breath? I think it's an excellent plan."

"Well your plans usually end up getting me hurt, Jesse, so excuse me if I'm not thrilled."

"I resent that, Rachel Berry. I'll have you know, that my _current _plan has your best interest at heart." Jesse smirked and offered Quinn a wink, getting the blonde to roll her eyes.

"You're deplorable, Jesse St. James, and I truly would like nothing more than for you to leave." Jesse folded his arms and planted his feet.

"Ms. Fabray, would _you_ like to hear my plan?" Rachel's eyes flicked up to survey Quinn; the blonde appeared to be in deep concentration.

"Quinn-"

"Let her answer, Rachel." Quinn moved her lips back and forth as she thought everything through. She knew that Jesse was about to set up a very convincing argument, Quinn just wasn't sure if she was ready to hear it.

_You're going to marry her. _

…_If that's what she wants. _

_But you wish it was because she admitted her feelings. _

_Of course that's what I wish. I want her to turn to me and tell me she loves me. I want to marry her the _right _way. _

_But…_

_But this is her dream come true and I don't want to be the thing that's holding her back from that. _

_Do you think this is smart? _

…_I'm worried that it will put an even bigger strain between us, yes. But at the same time…I know that this play is important to her. _

_So what's the plan, Fabray?_

_There is no plan. There is no choice. If marrying her gets her the part, I'm in. _

_And what about your real relationship? _

_Nothing has to change there. The wedding, the marriage, it's almost like a role in a play; we go through the motions and keep what's really important at the forefront. _

_It's okay…you can admit it here; it's just us two…you're _really _excited to be her wife. _

_I can't think like that. _

_Why not? _

_Because I'm not using this as an excuse to force her into something. It will have to be when she's ready. _

_Well this may push matters back a tad; she may be gun-shy to advance things. _

_Then I'll wait. _

_You may have to wait for a while. _

…_Then so be it. _

"What did you want to say, Jesse?"

"Thank you, Ms. Fabray, I'm pleased-"

"Just speak, St. James." Quinn grumbled. Jesse rolled his eyes but smiled when he glanced at both of them.

"What's the big deal?" He asked easily with a shrug. The girls traded confused looks before turning back to him.

"What are you talking about?" Jesse began to pace.

"A week ago, you both were planning on marrying each other to keep up appearances; because of your lie." He stated evenly and spared them both a meaningful look. Quinn and Rachel squirmed slightly but said nothing. "You were both ready to give your life to the other then, I'm not entirely sure what has changed."

"What has changed, Jesse, is that the truth as come out and I think both Quinn and I are better for it."

"Exactly!" Jesse smirked as he stood halted before them. "You're both being honest with one another now. You know the score! Rachel, you've already told me that you're not interested in meeting or falling in love with anyone else because you don't want to fall victim to a broken heart yet again."

Rachel frowned deeply and avoided Quinn's gaze. "Quinn, you've told me that you have no inclination to meet anyone as well because every time you do, it ends in disaster." Quinn didn't remember ever saying the words, but it was something she had thought many times; her relationship past was marred with destruction. "Since neither one of you has any interest in meeting someone else, I repeat, what's the big deal?"

Of course Jesse was leaving out that they had already found the one they want to spend the rest of their life with…but that was hardly here nor there. "Nothing has to change. You both go on with your lives. Rachel, you wanted someone at your side, now you have Quinn. Quinn, you wanted a future, you've found that in Rachel. Everything is out in the open. What's the big deal?"

His smirk was annoying the shit out of Quinn, but the boy did have a point. She glanced down at Rachel to gauge the diva's reaction. Her brown eyes were fixed on the hardwood floor and her brow was wrinkled. "Rach?"

Rachel shook her head before she looked up at Quinn. "This is insane, no. I'm not doing this." She got to her feet and tried to make a getaway to her bedroom, but Jesse stood in front of her with a frown.

"Why not?" He demanded. Rachel gave him an incredulous look before glancing briefly at Quinn.

"What about the sanctity of marriage, Jesse! Or lying to Ainsley and Charlene. Or the rest of the world, for that matter! We are only _twenty_ years old, who's to say that a year from now Quinn won't want to find some nice young man to settle down with!"

"Who's to say a year from now _you _won't want to meet a nice young man, Rach?" Quinn whispered as stared up at the diva through her eyelashes. Rachel hesitated as she gazed at the blonde. She knew she wouldn't. She wanted Quinn.

"You can_not _seriously be thinking of listening to Jesse, of all people!" Rachel gushed as she threw up her arms. Quinn stood and took the diva's hands in her own.

"We both know that Jesse is an idiot,"

"I'm standing right here."

"But that doesn't mean he isn't right. Rach, This. Is. Your. _Dream! _You're being offered a Broadway roll on a silver platter. A roll that is sure to be incredible!" Rachel shook her head as she removed her hands from Quinn's.

"Quinn, I'm not locking you into a fake marriage for the sake of a roll, I'm not! Please don't ask me to!"

Quinn was frustrated. She growled slightly before she turned back to meet Rachel's eyes. "You are not forcing me to do anything. And Jesse is right, nothing has to change between us." Quinn felt the ice below her feet break slightly and took a deep breath; she had to try a different tactic. "Rach. Who's your best friend?"

"That's easy; me." Both Quinn and Rachel ignored Jesse as they stared at one another. Quinn was trying her best to convey her feelings for Rachel as she searched the diva's confused face while Rachel was staring at the swirling hazel and trying not to get lost.

"You are." Rachel eventually whispered. Quinn read the vulnerability and honesty in that answer and took a sigh of relief.

"And you're _my _best friend. Let me do this for you." Rachel breathed out in a puff of astonishment and turned away before facing Quinn again.

"Quinn…this is…this is insanity!" Rachel mumbled, her eyes on Quinn.

"Would you stop saying that," Jesse huffed as he crossed his arms. "There has been a long list of celebrities that have married out of convenience or to cover up their glaring homosexuality."

"Yeah, Rach," Quinn said with a smile. "You'll be among the greats." Rachel rolled her eyes at Quinn but smiled slightly nonetheless.

"Still…don't you want to meet someone you can fall in love with?" Rachel asked desperately. Quinn sighed deeply as she stared at Rachel, wishing she could make the girl truly understand. And maybe if Rachel appeared hopeful, like she was waiting for the blonde to spill her heart out to her, Quinn may have told the truth. But Rachel just looked tired.

"I don't have to worry about that." Quinn whispered and smiled despite herself.

"And plus, Rach, it's not like marriages have to last forever." Jesse grumbled as he leaned against the living room wall.

"See, Rach, we have divorce to look forward to." Quinn said with a cheesy smile that got the diva to laugh. The blonde laced her fingers with Rachel's and swung their arms back and forth. "You're my best friend. I'd be _lucky _to marry my best friend. And plus, we are already so good at this. We live together. You got a ring. You know how I like my tea. It's perfect."

Rachel pulled away and chuckled into her palms. "This is crazy!" She exclaimed with a smile as she threw her arms up. Both Quinn and Jesse smiled softly at the sight.

_You can't _seriously _be considering this, Rachel Berry! _

_She's making it sound so easy…_

_You're in love with her! This is going to tear you apart!_

_Even if we weren't getting married, I'd still have to live with her and see her every day. It will tear me apart regardless. _

_So…what? Mind as well cash in on your heartache by getting a role of a lifetime? _

_More like I get to make sure that Quinn is loved and cared for everyday. _

_And you're the best one to do that. _

_Absolutely! But…_

_But what? _

_In the meantime, it couldn't hurt to make sure she's serious…_

_What's that supposed to mean? _

_Well we're hardly getting married tomorrow! There is plenty of time for her to back out. _

_What do you have cooking? _

_I'm merely suggesting that while we wait for our pending nuptials, we do a little recon. _

_Again I ask, what's that supposed to mean? _

_We'll worry about later. _

_Hmmhmm. Can't wait. Are you really going through with this?_

_Quinn is right. If this actually happens, I'll get to marry my best friend. And Jesse is right. If, at some point, Quinn doesn't want to be with me anymore, there's always divorce. _

_That would shatter you! _

_But if it makes Quinn happy…Look, this isn't exactly how I pictured my life going. But I truly feel that nothing will change so drastically between Quinn and me. _

_You're delusional. _

_Again…we're not getting married tomorrow. If, at any point, we feel that we are in over our heads, we call it off. _

_And in the mean time? _

_We go about our life. Simple as that. _

_This is almost as romantic as your first engagement to Quinn. _

_Sarcasm is hardly welcome right now. _

_I'm just saying..._

_I'm positive _anything _trumps that first engagement. _

Suddenly, Rachel turned around and grinned wickedly at the blonde. She could hardly reproduce the night of her birthday when Quinn slipped the ring on her finger. So Rachel mind as well make light of the situation. If for nothing more than to quell her fears and anxiety. "So…you're planning…on…_marrying me?_ Rachel faked stuttered as she continued to smirk, waiting for Quinn to pick up on her cue. It took her a moment, but Quinn began to laugh as she shook her head at Rachel's antics.

"Um…well…I just…I thought…I mean it's down the road…I just…" Jesse's eyebrows quirked as he watched Quinn nervously stutter. But it was obviously an inside joke he wasn't privy to.

"No that sounds amazing." Rachel gushed back with a shy grin, trying to stay in character but failing.

"So…we're engaged." Quinn asked as she took a step closer towards the diva, still smiling widely. She was glad Rachel was doing this. It felt good to make fun of themselves.

"I guess." Rachel recited with a chuckle and a shake of her head as she remembered the first night she shared in New York with Quinn. Sitting across four boxes and Quinn's first vegan meal, when they got engaged…for the first time.

"Maybe _this_ engagement will stick." Quinn joked back as she took Rachel's offered hands.

"They do say third time's a charm." Jesse watched as the pair got lost in each other's eyes as they held hands. It was boring him.

"This is boring." Jesse breathed out as he pushed against the wall. "I think we should talk about rules." Quinn and Rachel both looked confused as they turned to him.

"What rules?" Rachel asked as she felt Quinn's thumb skim the back of her hand and tried not to show how much it was affecting her.

"The rules, Rach, the rules! Like…no dating other people." Rachel frowned.

"Of course there is no dating other people."

"Obviously you can't if you intend to get married." Jesse huffed as he spoke slowly. "The media would be all over that. You can't stray or else your public image would suffer." Quinn rolled her eyes and continued to caress Rachel's hands with her thumbs. The media? They were hardly at that point.

"Neither one of us is going to stray." Quinn replied lazily. That would be easy for her to accomplish; Rachel's the only person she wanted.

"Naturally. I want to hold up the bonds of marriage completely." Rachel answered indignantly. Just because it was a show marriage, didn't mean the diva didn't want to take it seriously.

"I agree." Quinn answered quickly when the diva shot her a look.

"I pleased we see eye to eye on that, Quinn." Rachel said proudly as she nodded at the blonde. "Are there any other rules, Jesse?" Rachel asked gravely. She didn't want to mess this up.

Jesse tried to hide his smirk as he watched both girls. He almost wanted to laugh at how naïve they were being. They were so clearly in love he wished he had someone next to him he could place bets with. For a moment, just a moment, Jesse wanted to ask them if they thought about sex. Like the fact that they weren't going to be having it until Rachel came clean with her feelings or Quinn caved and decided she didn't want to wait until Rachel was ready to spill. And what if Rachel never came clean? Jesse didn't see that happening though. He knew Rachel well. Especially if the blonde kept looking at Rachel that way, the diva would crack in no time.

But it _could _take a while. He wanted to see the looks on their faces if he mentioned children. Public displays of affection. Interviews. Their family and friends finding out. But he didn't. He couldn't. This role was Rachel's start and he wanted her to have it. They'd figure out the other stuff eventually. And by then, hopefully, they'd be in so deep that it would either be _very _entertaining, or they'd just admit what was so obvious to anyone who looked at them together.

Rules? There were a million rules to a fake relationship, and they had already broken most of them. Things like: don't fall in love, don't rely on the other person, always have an endgame, don't become sexual…the list went on and on. Obviously these rules didn't apply to them. In fact, he was hoping they'd break every single one. So instead of answering, Jesse just rearranged his features and said: "I'll let you know if at any time they become important."

Both girls nodded firmly as though they trusted him. He hoped they did. Even though Rachel thought of Quinn as her best friend, Rachel was his. And Quinn was growing on him. But enough about them. "Ms. Fabray, are you ready to read my script now?"

X

"Are you nervous?" Rachel whispered into the darkened room. She could barely see Quinn's features.

"Hmmm, no. No I'm not." The blonde said slowly, gazing into Rachel's eyes.

"Really?"

"Why do you seem so surprised?" Quinn asked as she shifted on the bed, closer to Rachel.

"It's a big step."

"I don't see it like that. I see it as a necessity for your future." Quinn responded quietly.

"So this is agent Quinn talking?" Rachel frowned.

"No. This is Rachel Berry's biggest fan talking." Rachel smiled and ducked her head shyly. "The script was…_beautiful_. Their story is amazing and the play is going to be huge. I want you to have that." Quinn said softly.

"You're not at all concerned with tying yourself to me for the rest of your life?" Rachel asked skeptically.

"Whether we're married or not, Rachel, you're still going to be in my life forever."

"Really?" Rachel asked softly, touched and hopeful; she always wanted to know Quinn.

"Yes, really. Why wouldn't I?" Rachel only shrugged. "You're stuck with me Rachel. Till death do us part." Quinn answered with a grin. Rachel chuckled at the pun and glanced back up at Quinn.

"Okay…but don't you feel like this is kind of wrong? What about Charlene and Ainsley. We're deceiving them." The diva whispered.

"I don't see it that way."

"How come?" Rachel asked as she prompted herself up on an elbow to stare down at the blonde. The bedroom windows were open and the chilly breeze that blew the curtains felt nice against the diva's hot skin. Being that close to Quinn, in the dark, just the two of them while they discussed their future together was making Rachel's body overheat.

"Because I've read their story. They've known each other their whole lives. They're best friends…you know…with the benefit of sex or whatever." Quinn answered with a light laugh that got Rachel to bite her lip as she thought of benefitting Quinn. "Ainsley's argument is that he wants someone who's loyal and will respect their story. That's you. You're the most loyal person I've ever met. And when it comes to you, Rach, I plan on being completely trustworthy."

"Is that so?" Rachel asked playfully.

"Yes." Quinn whispered as she gazed up at Rachel.

"I'm interested to hear what Charlene has to say." The diva said after a moment, unable to let the tension in the room grow before she threw herself on the blonde. She couldn't be completely sure because it was so dark in the room, but Rachel could have sworn Quinn was staring deeply into her eyes when she had responded. Rachel brushed the thought off and tried to keep it together.

"I'm more interested in hearing what Ainsley has to say."

"This play is going to it for me, isn't it, Quinn?" Rachel whispered. As was their habit, after Jesse had left, the pair cuddled up on the couch and the blonde read the script out loud as Rachel listened. She absolutely adored when they did this. Of course, Quinn could read the phone book and Rachel would love it. But it was something Quinn looked forward to as well.

"I think it is, yeah." Quinn mumbled back as she slipped the covers closer to her chin.

"Jesse's play is going to be successful as well."

"Yeah, it was pretty good." Quinn said, her thoughts still on Rachel's future. "Matt and Chris have submitted their movies to _Sundance_, so it will be a few weeks until we hear if they made it or not. But I think you're good on that front too."

Rachel nodded into the darkness, more concerned about their meeting with Charlene. "There's nothing we need to talk about, right?" Rachel whispered. "Tomorrow's meeting isn't going to be a big deal right?"

Quinn shrugged as she twirled a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "I don't see why it should."

They should have probably talked.

X

"So I'm thinking that an outdoor ceremony would suit you both perfectly. Soft dresses, nothing poufy with too much fabric. Simple. Elegant. Understated. From what I gathered from your personalities and dress styles, I'm assuming neither one of you want to wear a tux. Flowers should be soft and untraditional. Lilies, daisies, tulips. A dusk ceremony would be beautiful with low lighting like candles and tiki torches. But not gaudy. This isn't a backyard barbeque. White linens with touches of colors. Pinks. Yellows. Maybe some lilacs. Vegan entrées and appetizers, naturally. You must have an open bar, but it should only be top-shelf and I feel strongly that there should be no beer. Wine. Champagne. Elegant classics like expensive liquors and traditional mixed beverages like sidecars and Rob Roy's. This isn't a fraternity party; we aren't serving Jager bombs for crying out loud.

"The wedding party should be small; perhaps one or two bridesmaids or groomsman a piece. I'm thinking a nice park as a venue with an indoor hall for the reception. No, strike that, I want the reception outside. Music will be mostly instrumental and be playing throughout the whole ceremony while a nice jazz band performs during the reception. Traditional vows and friend to officiate. Your parents will give you away and the whole thing should small and intimate. I see Quinn with an updo while you, Rachel have your hair slightly curled and sweeping. It will compliment the strapless dress I have in my mind while you, Quinn will have a more conservative dress but with an opened back.

"I see you both dancing barefoot. Perhaps we'll have a dance floor, maybe just on the grass. I _loathe_ tents but the weather is one thing you can never fuck with so perhaps we'll have to make an exception but I'll look into other avenues. You should honeymoon somewhere beautiful yet exclusive. Naturally I recommend one of the saints. Saint Martin has always been my favorite, although it's becoming somewhat contrite. This thing is going to be chic and tasteful. I have many ideas but I'm open to whatever suggestions either one of you would like to contribute. This will be my fifth wedding I've planned, including my own and the one where Ainsley and I renewed our vows. This will be my first lesbian wedding so I'm aware that I may be a tad traditional and am willing to learn. But I sincerely hope you'll consider a spring wedding and May would be the perfect time. We have five months to plan and I'm equal to the challenge."

All this was said before Quinn and Rachel had even sat at the small, round table in the buzzing coffee house. Both girls simultaneously collapsed into their chairs as they stared across the table at Charlene with wide-eyes and opened mouths. The redhead didn't appear at all phased by their overwhelmed state, however. But instead, proceeded to open the huge binder in front of her that had dozens of red tabs peeking out to doggy ear different pages.

"Was there anything either of you wanted specifically before we dive in?" Charlene asked as she flipped to different pages in her wedding binder. The cover read "Rachel & Quinn's Wedding," and was at least six inches thick. "Anything at all you'd like?"

Both girls blinked in quick succession before turning slightly to exchange flabbergasted looks. "Small." They both said at the same time. "We want…_small_." Quinn and Rachel said slowly as they gawked at one another.

Charlene glanced up at them over her stylish glasses. "Exactly how small? One hundred guests? Fifty?"

Rachel cocked her head at Quinn as the blonde bit her lip. They mentally tallied up who they wanted there and the diva directed her attention to Charlene. "Five." Rachel said firmly.

"Well five hundred guests is hardly small, Rachel." Charlene answered as she checked in her binder how many guests each venue she had in mind could accommodate.

"Not hundred." Quinn supplied. "Just five." Charlene glanced up at Quinn and saw how serious both girls were. Her back slammed against her chair as she removed her glasses and let them swing momentarily from the chain around her neck.

"You must be joking." Both girls shook their heads. "You want _five_ people in the wedding party or do you want five people to make _up _the party?"

"Charlene, we really appreciate what you're doing for us but we're not really interested in a big affair."

"Well with five people it's hardly an affair at all!"

"Neither Quinn nor I have that many people we wish to invite. You and Ainsley, of course, are on the list. As well as Jesse and Quinn's two employees." Rachel answered, thinking of Lydia and Jeremy.

"Your fathers aren't invited?" Charlene asked incredulously. "Your family members?" Rachel's neck almost snapped as she turned to Quinn, her look pleading. The blonde jerked her head, almost to tell the diva that their hands were tied; they could hardly get away with _not _inviting Rachel's fathers.

"Of course my fathers are invited." Rachel answered miserably. She really didn't want anyone to witness the fake wedding. But her fathers would be heartbroken if they were to miss it.

"And I was lead to believe that you recently had a friend come and stay with you. I want to say Lexus?"

"Mercedes." Quinn answered tightly.

"Yes, Mercedes. Rachel told me last evening that she's a very close friend of yours who you both recently got reacquainted with. Surely you would like her there?" Rachel swallowed thickly and faced Quinn. Mercedes would be pissed if she wasn't invited.

"I suppose Mercedes should be there." Quinn answered hesitantly.

"Well look at that; a grand totally of eight people. We're on a roll." Charlene said as she wrote down the names. "And how about your cast, Rachel? _A Sweetness, A Date a Month, _and _Which of You, I Love _should all be in attendance, wouldn't you say? I need names."

Between Rachel and Quinn, slowly, they started naming names. "Not everyone here should get an invite. I'm sure you weren't exactly close to the grip on _Which of You, I Love_, or the Best Boy for _A Date a Month_, so we'll just keep it to a few key people. Which, if my math is correct, brings the guest list to a nice round twenty. Still small." Charlene said with a smile. "But I'm sure your fathers would like to add some family members."

Rachel and Quinn chuckled forcefully as the diva's hand sought out Quinn's. Both girls were slightly lightheaded suddenly. "Now I'm sure, like Mercedes, there _must _be some old friends from high school that are excited to see your nuptials. Perhaps some friends from Julliard as well?" Rachel practically choked on each friend from Julliard she spoke as Quinn bit her lip hard.

"And friends from high school? You were in the glee club together, were you not?" Rachel and Quinn's eyes met in amusement as they pictured the glee club at their wedding. They exchanged smiles and lightly chuckled at the thought. When Rachel shook her head at the picture, Quinn turned back to Charlene to set her straight. This was getting out of hand.

"Charlene…I'm not…_comfortable _with attention. I'd really like something small." Quinn said slowly. She felt Rachel's hand squeeze hers and knew the diva agreed. It would be bad enough that Mercedes and all their other friends would witness their fake wedding. The glee kids? No.

Charlene sat back in her seat and removed her glasses once again. Her smile was patient as she surveyed both girls. "Ladies, this is your wedding day. _Your _wedding day. You may have whatever ceremony you'd like and invite whomever you please." The redhead waited a moment before continuing. "With that said, I want you to consider what exactly a wedding ceremony is. It's a celebration of your love for one another. A party. And while a small, intimate celebration is quite lovely, I'm sure there are _many _people who would delight in the fact that the two of you are so happy. Quinn, your parents for instance."

Quinn's head was furiously shaking back and forth and Rachel mirrored the action. "Absolutely not. My parents are not invited for dozen reasons." Quinn said fervently.

"I vehemently agree with Quinn. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing Mr. and Mrs. Fabray did right was have Quinn." Charlene frowned softly.

"You don't speak to your parents, darling?"

"No. I haven't in years and I have no plans to start now."

"Quinn's parents disowned her-"

"Twice." Quinn cut in.

"Yes, twice."

"And they don't even _know _about Rachel. They'd disown me a third time if they ever found out." Quinn stated calmly. Although it still hurt, slightly, long ago she'd gotten over the urge to see her mother or wish that her father could be different.

"Okay." Charlene said slowly. "They are off the guest list."

"Thank you."

"Rachel? Do you know your mother?" Quinn calmly covered her eyes with her palm as Rachel slightly shook from laughter beside her. Their bright eyes met as they smiled fondly at one another.

"Can you just imagine if they glee club, my mother, and your parents were all at this thing?" Rachel asked with mirth.

"What an event _that _would be." Quinn said with a smirk and an eye roll. Charlene smiled at the admission, but couldn't help but sense the girls' desire to have everyone they cared about at their wedding.

"Do you think Shelby would sit on your side or mine?" The blonde shook her head at Rachel's self-deprecating comment and scooted her chair nearer to the diva's so she could wrap her arm around Rachel's shoulder and pull her close.

"I suppose it would depend on if she brought Beth." Quinn said as she bumped Rachel's shoulder with her own playfully.

"That reminds me; no children at the wedding." Rachel stressed, getting Quinn to laugh. "What? Children are cute and they take attention away." Rachel pouted.

"Did you get that, Charlene?" Quinn asked as she stared down at Rachel. "Ms. Berry wants to be the center of attention; no children." Charlene chuckled and made the note as Rachel beamed at Quinn.

"You'd look amazing in a backless dress with your hair up." Rachel breathed out as she stared at Quinn tenderly.

"And you'd look perfect in a strapless dress with your hair down." Quinn said softly as she smiled. Charlene smirked as she sipped her coffee, enjoying watching the young couple finally get into the wedding planning. She knew perfectly well that Rachel Berry would want a grand affair and that Quinn would give the diva everything she desired. Hence why she was pushing a bigger guest list; she wanted them to have their perfect wedding, not the ceremony they _thought_ they _should_ want. Charlene had a feeling the girls were cutting the guest list only because they didn't think people would want to be there, not that Quinn and Rachel didn't want them there.

"I think you should have touches of yellow while I can compliment it with pink." Rachel whispered against Quinn shoulder. Charlene's hand flew across the page of her binder as she started writing.

"Spring themed; pinks and yellows." The redhead whispered as the pair continued talking.

"An outdoor ceremony at dusk sounds nice." Rachel smiled up at Quinn as the blonde nodded.

"It does. Lots of candles." Rachel nodded. "Barefoot." Quinn whispered as she slowly brushed aside a strand of dark hair from Rachel's forehead.

"I'll be too short barefoot." Rachel frowned.

"You can wear heels for the ceremony but barefoot to dance." Quinn said as she smiled. "I like you short." The blonde whispered for Rachel only. Her words had been intimate against Rachel's ear as the diva shivered slightly. It sounded more like a promise than a statement and she couldn't help but glance questioningly up at the blonde. But Quinn only continued to smile mysteriously. Rachel felt the tug in her stomach as her skin heated up but she dismissed it as she cleared her throat.

"How expensive, exactly, will this be?" Rachel asked, trying to kill the sudden tension that hung around her and Quinn; the last thing she needed was to delude herself into thinking Quinn actually had feelings for her.

"It's hard to say as of now. But with your show, Quinn's commission from Jesse, her business, and I'm sure your fathers will help, it should be affordable." Charlene answered as she adjusted her glasses.

Quinn's head immediately started to tally everything. This was going to be expensive. She glanced at Rachel only to see the diva frowning as she twirled her engagement ring. "Don't worry about money. I'm sure it will be fine." The blonde smiled.

Rachel smiled softly back but her eyes expressed her doubts. And not just about money. It was clear to Quinn that Rachel was starting to second guess this. Without thinking, Quinn leaned forward as softly connected their lips before whispering in Rachel's ear. "Please don't worry about it. We _will _be fine. I'm not worried." She sealed her promise with a kiss to Rachel's cheek before pulling slowly.

Rachel's heart raced as she stared up at Quinn, her chest heaving. That one second of contact as their lips touched felt like it catapulted them into a completely different time and place. Quinn was suddenly nervous that she made the wrong move. It was one thing to flirt with Rachel and to show some skin here and there, but kissing Rachel was a whole other animal. And it was slight agony for the blonde. She didn't realize how much she had missed kissing the diva.

But Rachel's expression was far from afraid. Her eyes were darker and her skin was flushed. Even so, Quinn felt the need to explain. "Sorry." The blonde said with smirk. "Habit." Rachel's head bobbed as though she understand. In truth, she had seen Quinn's lips moving but wasn't able to formulate a response or understand the blonde's words.

"Have you two had an engagement party?" Charlene asked, trying to bring the girls back to the land of the living; the pair appeared lost in their own little world and the redhead was almost positive they had forgotten her existence.

"Um…" Rachel shook her head to clear it while Quinn was trying to ignore the intense lust that churned in Rachel's eyes. "No, I don't suppose we have." Charlene clapped excitedly.

"Well than you should have a small get-together with close friends." The woman stated. Quinn was finally catching up. It had been a week since they had kissed and the soft peck wasn't going to cut it.

_If we were to hold a party, with people who don't know that we are faking are in attendance, I'd get to kiss Rachel. _

_You're sick. _

_It's not like she doesn't want to kiss us. _

_Absolutely right, you're a genius! Invite everyone you've ever met and kiss the daylights out of her! _

_Perfect plan! _

_Full-proof! _

"A party is an excellent idea." Quinn smiled widely at Charlene before turning to Rachel. The diva seemed slightly uncertain.

_Why is she grinning like that? _

_It's almost as though she's up to something. _

_Why would she want to have a party for our fake engagement? _

_Maybe she just likes parties? _

_Well…if we have a party…and people were there who didn't _know _that we have a fake engagement…_

_I'm already ten steps ahead of you!_

_We're horrible, horrible people! _

_She's the one who just kissed us! _

_This is equal parts incredibly immoral and insanely intelligent! I will use this to my full advantage!_

_We'll get to be all over her!_

"A party would be delightful." Rachel beamed back. She wasn't sure how smart it would be putting herself through further torture, but it would be a _very_ sweet torture.

"Wonderful. You should have it at your apartment. I have a few catering places I can give you the names to."

"I don't mind cooking." Rachel beamed again; she was excited for Quinn's cooking. She had missed it. Jesse had attempted to cook for her all week but they usually ended up getting takeout. Likewise Quinn wanted a reason to cook for the diva. The previous morning was hectic because Rachel had to be at NYU early for her last day of filming so she only had a breakfast bar in the cab on the way. That night they ate at Ainsley and Charlene's. Before they met Charlene at the coffee house, they both just grabbed a muffin before rushing out to meet the redhead. But that's how Quinn wanted it. Rachel was about to be hit with a rude awakening come their regularly scheduled programming. In short: Quinn wanted to start operation: Real Me. The party would give her an excuse, however. She'd make all of the diva's favorite foods.

"You can also celebrate _A Date a Month _and_ Which of You, I Love _being submitted to _Sundance, _while telling everyone about your new play." Rachel was too busy thinking about Quinn's vegan Tempeh wraps to comment.

The party planning would give Rachel something to do all week. The diva didn't have school and no longer had work to keep her busy. Meanwhile, Quinn's dog walking business was severely booked, most likely because of the cold weather; no one wanted to walk their dogs through the whipping wind that cut down each New York City block—it always felt at least twenty degrees colder in the city.

Rachel knew that the blonde wouldn't be around as much to help plan the party, but she was, nonetheless, surprised Monday morning when she awoke to find Quinn's side of the bed empty. It wasn't even six yet. The diva sniffed the air and came up empty. She quickly wrapped her robe around her shivering form and took off to the kitchen only to find the stove off. "Where's breakfast?" She scratched her bed head and quickly looked into the fridge before pouting. Nothing had been made.

The diva shrugged. She wasn't being very fair. Obviously Quinn had an early morning and she could hardly ask the blonde to get up even earlier to prepare food for Rachel when the diva had nothing to do all day but lie around. Rachel took out some Bran Flakes and a bowl and got her cereal ready. Moments later, she was in front of the TV.

X

"How'd the wedding planning go?" Lydia asked with a smirk as she put a leash on the Cocker Spaniel she needed to walk. Quinn looked up from the other Spaniel and rolled her eyes.

"It was lovely, thank you." Jeremy chuckled as he petted the Golden Retriever and stood with the dogs leash in hand.

"I'm so freaking excited for this wedding. It's going to be _huuuuge_!" He sang out as he dance with Troy. The dog whimpered in excitement as he glanced up at Jeremy.

"Whatever. We're having an engagement party this weekend at our place."

"Was that an invitation?" Lydia asked as she led the dog out the front door. The apartment owner had four dogs and they were all rambunctious; it was hardly a job for only one person so the three met up to even out the load.

"Yes, that was an invitation. But honestly I don't need you two there."

"You're the sweetest, Quinn." Jeremy gushed as he threw his arm around the blonde's shoulders.

"I _meant,_" Quinn started with a smile and a roll of her eyes. "That while I'd be happy if you made it, this party is really for people who don't know about Rachel and my lie."

"Is that because it's easier to be excited for an engagement when people think it's real? Because…that makes sense." Lydia replied as she crossed the street over to the dog park.

"Well I'm excited and I know the truth. You two are the cutest couple since Lady and the Tramp. Isn't that right, Troy? Isn't that right?" Jeremy asked the Golden Retriever before he unleashed the dog and tossed a tennis ball for Troy to chase.

"The party is actually an excuse for me to be overly affectionate with Rachel." Quinn answered as she sat on a park bench and watched Jeremy get all four dogs wound up.

"What a romantic story." Lydia said as she sat beside the blonde.

"You don't understand. All week I'm going to have to run the perfect balance between standoffish and flirty. I'm not cooking, cleaning, or catering to Rachel in any way. So I'm going to have to make up for it in other ways."

"Like making sweet, sweet love to her." Jeremy piped in as he scooped one of the Cocker Spaniel's up and began slow dancing with it.

"More like being flirty and affectionate." Quinn corrected before laughing at Jeremy's antics.

"How _does_ one be flirty and affectionate towards a girl who doesn't know she is being obsessed over?" Lydia asked with a tilt of her head and a wry smile.

"I'm not obsessed with her, I love her. There's a difference." Quinn corrected as she pulled her pea coat closer.

"Let's see…all you talk about is Rachel. All you think about is Rachel. Every day to day activity involves Rachel in some way. Even when you're _not_ doing things for Rachel, it's all about notdoing those things… for Rachel." Lydia summarized.

"Lyds got a point, Quinn. You're a tad obsessed."

"I am not." Quinn defended. "Things are just tricky because we're not actually together. Once we are official it won't be like this."

"And when exactly are things going to be official. You know, just so I can plan to start tuning in to what you're saying without having to hear Rachel's name every other word."

"You're both horrible people and you're not invited to the wedding."

"Lyds! Look what you did!"

But Quinn had wished she had given some thought to how she was going to avoid catering to Rachel. For the last year and half that was all she had ever done. And it proved to be a hard habit to break.

When the blonde got home at lunchtime, she had found the diva sprawled out on the couch, asleep, snoring slightly with the TV on and her morning cereal on the coffee table. Quinn quickly ran to their bedroom to get her camera so she could capture the priceless image of the soon-to-be famous Rachel Berry looking like a loaf. After she snapped several shots from a myriad of different angles, Quinn readied herself for the first stage of her operation.

Just like she figured, Rachel hadn't done a thing around the apartment. There was a piece of lined paper on the coffee table that read: Engagement Party Ideas. The title was underlined and surrounded by stars and hearts. But that was it. There was nothing else written underneath the title.

"I see you've had a productive day." Quinn mumbled with a smile as she shook her head. She desperately wanted to put Rachel's bowl of cereal in the sink, clean up the crumpled papers that lay strewed around, gather their laundry to be cleaned, and do the dishes in the sink before making Rachel her lunch. But she wouldn't.

"Rachel!" Quinn yelled, getting the diva to jerk awake and slowly rise on the couch.

"I'm awake!" Rachel called out before she rubbed her eyes. Shaking her head slightly to clear it, Rachel blinked a few times as Quinn came into focus. "Hello, Quinn." The diva said shyly as she blushed. She most certainly did _not _just have a very arousing sex dream about the blonde. It did _not _include Quinn ravishing her on the very couch Rachel was sitting on. And Quinn had _not _been wearing her old Cheerios uniform in said dream that most certainly _didn't _take place. "How has your day been progressing?"

Quinn followed Rachel towards the bathroom and watched as the diva splashed some cold water on her flushed face before she began brushing her teeth. "Busy. It's still busy." Quinn said with a sigh as she leaned against the doorframe. "I have to meet with Thomas and Jesse over the deal for the play and arrange his trip to Europe." Quinn filled in distractedly. She was trying to recall everything she had learned in one of her classes at Julliard about contract clauses and talents' rights. It had been one of her first classes and she could barely remember a thing. Luckily she still had the professor's number and she was planning on meeting with him before the early dinner meeting she'd be having with both Thomas and Jesse.

"Well that sounds exciting!" Rachel gushed as she placed her pink toothbrush beside Quinn's before brushing by the blonde on her way to the kitchen. The blonde remained in the bathroom doorway momentarily as she eyed the toothpaste that lingered in the sink; it was _killing _her not to clean it up.

With a roll of her eyes and a deep sigh, Quinn stayed resolved. "Rach?" She called out as she held her breath.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel's head peaked out from the kitchen as she waited for the blonde to continue.

"Could you come here for a sec?" Rachel frowned before she made her way over to the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Quinn looked nervous.

"That's what's wrong." The blonde pointed to the sink and Rachel frowned deeper in her confusion.

"You don't like our sink?"

"No…I don't like what's _in _the sink." Quinn replied as she crossed her arms. She tried her best to look anywhere but at the diva; Rachel's confused face was really rather adorable.

"Toothpaste?"

"Yes, toothpaste. You always leave it in the sink and it drives me crazy." Quinn stated as evenly as possible. It didn't drive her crazy. She just wanted Rachel to start being a little more thoughtful.

"Oookay?" The diva turned on the faucet at full blast until the toothpaste was washed away and looked up at Quinn. "Better?" The blonde nodded and bit her lip as Rachel went back to the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn forced herself to continue. "Rach?" The diva's pinched smile appeared from behind the kitchen wall as she looked expectantly at Quinn.

"Yes?"

"Your bowl." Quinn answered, arms still folded, as she nodded to the remains of the diva's breakfast. Rachel ducked her head before looking back up at Quinn.

"Of course. How thoughtless of me." She answered calmly as she walked into the living room to pick up her bowl. Quinn followed her into the kitchen and watched as Rachel placed it into the sink.

"You're not going to wash it?"

Rachel tapped her fingernails on the kitchen counter as she looked up at the blonde. "Is there something you'd wish to address with me, Quinn?" The diva asked composedly.

"Yes, there is." Quinn stated as she straitened her shoulders.

"Well by all means, please, do tell." Rachel asked with a wave of her hand. Quinn was silent for a moment before she continued.

"You're messy." Rachel frowned as she blanched.

"I'm messy?" She asked slowly.

"Yes, you're messy. _Really _messy."

The diva's mouth hung open for a moment as she stutter. "Okay. I'll…try and work on that."

"Thank you." Quinn responded with a nod of her head as her heart raced. She was nervous. For the last year and a half she had been the perfect woman. She was afraid that now that she was showing her true colors, not making life easy for Rachel, the diva would realize that she wasn't _actually _in love with Quinn but with the Stepford version.

Quinn leaned against the refrigerator as Rachel rolled up her sleeves and began to wash her bowl. "Is there anything else you'd wish to discuss with me?" Rachel asked, aware that Quinn's eyes were still on her.

The blonde cleared her throat as she stood tall. "Yes…the laundry." She managed with as much confidence as she could. "I'll be busy all day and I need you to do it."

Rachel nodded thoughtfully as she shook water from the clean dish before placing it on the drying wrack. "That's fine."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Both girls stood there for a moment in silence, Rachel facing the sink while Quinn inspected the diva's profile. "Is there a reason why you are suddenly bringing this up after all this time?" Rachel asked quietly.

"Well…" Quinn began slowly, carefully choosing her words. "Now that…everything is…out in the open," Rachel nodded once as she ducked her head. "I just thought…" The blonde trailed off as she saw Rachel's expression.

"Yes, of course. Now that we're not lying to each other, we should be more honest about our feelings." Quinn didn't know why but she suddenly felt very guilty.

"Rachel-"

"No, you're absolutely right in your opinion, Quinn. It was unreasonable for me to expect that you do all of the household chores. I will be more attentive to the day to day activities." Rachel said quietly as she began collecting the clothes lying around the bedroom to be put in their hamper.

Quinn was quiet as she watched her, biting her lip and leaning against the doorframe. "Is there anything I can change that you don't-"

"You grind your teeth." Quinn's arms dropped to her sides as she stared at the diva.

"What?" She asked in confusion.

"You grind your teeth when you sleep or when you're watching TV." Quinn had no idea.

"Okay. I'm sorry?"

"As you should be. It's very annoying and distracting." Rachel replied as she crossed her arms.

"Well you snore!"

"I do not!" Rachel said indignantly with a gasp.

"Oh yes you do! And it's _loud, _Rach. It's not soft, adorable snores!" Quinn challenged as she stepped further into the room.

"Well you roll your eyes too much." Rachel huffed. Quinn scoffed and fought the instinct to roll her eyes.

"Your constant singing is annoying!"

"Your overprotective nature borderlines on stalkerish! I _can_ cross the street without you guiding me there, Quinn!"

"I'm surprised you're not _bald _with all the hair you leave in the drain!"

"Your anal retentive cleanliness is obsessive and a little too Patrick Bateman in _American Psycho_!"

"When in comparison to your _PigPen_ lifestyle, I'm not surprised!" Quinn seethed.

Rachel narrowed her eyes as she advanced closer to the blonde. "I'm an _artist_, Quinn! By definition we live fluidly and without constraint!"

"See…you _say _artist, all I hear is lazy!" Quinn hissed.

Rachel gasped loudly as she held her hand to her chest. "How dare you! I'll have you know, Quinn Fabray, that I am incredibly hard working and deeply focused!"

"You weren't so hard working or deeply focused when you were lying on the couch _not _planning our engagement party!"

"Well maybe I would have been a little more in to it if I had my _partner_ there helping!"

"Well _someone _has to support us! How else are we going to continuously take cabs everywhere, rent musicals from _Netflicks_, and attend every freaking play and musical known to man if I don't work?"

"I work! I work _hard! _In case you've forgotten, _I'm _the newest star in the next big Broadway hit!"

"And who got you that gig?"

"How dare you! I cannot believe you are minimizing my work ethic and extreme talent!" The sound of Quinn's cell phone ringing doused them into silence. The blonde glared at Rachel before she turned back into the living room to get her cell from her purse. With her arms crossed and her brow furrowed heavily, Rachel followed Quinn. "I can_not believe _you brought that up!" Rachel fumed as Quinn answered her phone.

"What?" Quinn barked into the receiver. It was Jesse, she was allowed to be mean to him. As the blonde _hmmed _and _uh huhed_ her way through her conversation with the boy, Quinn eyed Rachel. The diva looked furious, her skin flushed, eyes dark, chest heaving, as she stood there glowering at Quinn.

It took the blonde a moment to realize it, but she suddenly understood what was going on between her and Rachel. They were turned on. They were frustrated. Quinn took stock of her body as she half listened to Jesse; she was aroused. _Incredibly _aroused. She licked her lips as she stared at the diva and watched as Rachel's eyes honed in on the action.

Their argument had been stupid, Rachel thought. Quinn's teeth grinding was hardly an issue; it practically lulled Rachel to sleep every night. She loved how overprotective Quinn could be—when Quinn guided her across the street, Rachel felt safe. When the blonde ordered her food for her when they went out to eat, Rachel thought it was romantic. Quinn's cleanliness was a Godsend to Rachel; she had always been messy.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was Rachel understood how aroused she was. She was wet. She could hardly control her breathing. Her body was on fire. All she could do was stare at Quinn's dark hazel eyes and her pink lips as the blonde panted.

"Fine, I'll be there!" Quinn yelled over the phone at Jesse as she rolled her eyes. Rachel bit her lip at the action; it was so sexy when Quinn rolled her eyes. "I have to go meet Jesse right now about this stupid meeting. He's freaking out or something." Quinn grumbled as she moved to the front door.

"When will you be home?" Rachel replied with attitude as she trailed behind Quinn towards the front door.

"Late tonight." Quinn answered back, thinking about meeting Jesse, then going over to Julliard to speak with the professor, afterwards she'd have dinner with Thomas and Jesse.

"So I suppose I'll have to fend for myself as far as dinner is concerned?" Rachel asked as she looked up at the blonde. Quinn's eyes burned as she stared down at the diva. She looked incredibly sexy—primal. She felt the flutters she had always felt in high school during one of their fights as they eyed each other.

"I suppose you will." Quinn answered back, her voice husky. Rachel rearranged her stance at the tone in the blonde's voice, slightly caught off-guard by its deep rumble. Rachel wanted nothing more than to grab the blonde and drag her off to the bedroom. She flashbacked on seeing Quinn's naked breasts and her own nipples hardened at the thought.

"Well when you come home, do try and not grind your teeth so loudly it disturbs my beauty sleep." Rachel answered, hoping her own voice didn't betray her intense arousal.

"I'm sure over your snoring you won't be able to hear me grinding my teeth." Quinn reflected as her gaze dropped to the diva's lips. Everything was suspended as they stared at the other's mouth, wanting so badly to taste the other. They were breathing so shallow, they both felt lightheaded and dazed. Quinn could no longer stand it.

Moving so quickly Rachel didn't even have time to react, Quinn swooped down, cupped the back of Rachel's neck, and hungrily fixed her lips to the stunned diva's. It lasted no more than a moment before Quinn pulled back, trying to hide her smirk at Rachel's shocked expression.

Quinn threw her bag over her shoulder as she opened the door. "Sorry," she apologized with amusement in her eyes. "Habit." She finished smugly before she left the apartment and strutted down the hallway towards the elevator.

Rachel stood shocked in the doorway as she watched Quinn wait for the lift, her fingers touching her lips. Her arousal just tripled as she stared at the blonde. It was true, it was a habit for them to kiss their goodbyes at the door, but that felt more than just habit. Rachel wasn't exactly complaining, however, the kiss did more harm than good to her body. She felt ready to pop.

Quinn felt Rachel's eyes on her and slowly turned her head to smirk mysteriously. The sight made Rachel grow even wetter. "You better get started on the engagement party, Berry." Quinn said as the elevator doors opened. Rachel nodded dumbly back. "The faster we get this party over with, the faster you'll become _Mrs. _Fabray."

The elevator doors closed and Rachel gripped onto the doorframe to keep from collapsing on the spot. The diva all but came undone at Quinn's words. She was almost positive there was nothing sexier than the idea of becoming Mrs. Fabray.

Quinn frowned heavily as she stared down at the caller I.D on her cell. It was Rachel. "Hello?" The blonde asked questioningly.

"_I'm keeping my last name, Fabray!" _Was all Rachel had yelled before she hung up. Quinn chuckled deeply as she stashed her cell back into her purse. _This is going to be fun_, she thought as she slid her sunglasses on and hailed down the nearest cab.


	11. Chapter 11 War of the Roses

_Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. You have been _really_ amazing._

Chapter Eleven: War of the Roses

"Sweetie, can you restock the chips?" Rachel asked as she wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist and rested her cheek against Quinn's back.

"Course, baby. Have you eaten? Can I get you something else to drink?" Quinn asked as she laced her fingers with Rachel's before turning around to surround the girl with her arms.

"I'm fine, thank you. Are you okay? Is there anything else I can do for you?" Rachel asked with her big eyes, tightening her hold around Quinn's waist as she looked up at the girl.

Quinn leaned down to touch her forehead to Rachel's as she draped her arms around the diva's neck. "Just keep looking breathtaking and I'll be fine."

"You are the absolute best, do you know that?" Rachel whispered back as her eyes locked with Quinn's.

"You make it easy, Rach." The blonde breathed out against Rachel's lips.

"May I have a kiss now from my gorgeous fiancé?" Rachel asked with an impish smile.

Quinn's eyebrow rose. "Just one?" She breathed out.

"One for now, one for the road, and many more later tonight after our guests leave." Rachel stressed as she closed her eyes and waited for the blonde's lips.

"That sounds verypromising." Quinn answered in a hushed voice as she erased the distance. It was a soft slide of lips, intimate, but not too passionate. Regardless, both Quinn and Rachel reveled in the contact. They forgot to breathe as Quinn took Rachel's bottom lip between her own and sucked lightly before merely brushing their mouths once again tenderly.

Beside them, the sound of _awwws_ and squeals could be heard. "You two are just _precious_!" Rachel's friend Jennifer from Julliard gushed as she watched the couple kiss several times before Quinn smiled down at the diva and took off for the kitchen.

"Thank you, Jen." Rachel replied with a shy smile and a sigh as she blushed. "I'm so lucky to have Quinn." The diva allowed one more wistful grin before she hurriedly took off to check on the ice. Jen turned to Rachel's other friend from Julliard, Tyler, and began discussing their plans over Christmas break. Because they were so deep in conversation, they completely missed Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy's horrified faces and complete puzzlement over the scene they had just witnessed.

"I feel nauseated." Jesse breathed out with hand against his stomach as he watched Quinn bustle around the kitchen, getting more dip before checking on different entrées she had laid out on the counters, quietly simmering, between conversations with different guests.

"I have never witnessed two people be more boring and disgusting before in my life." Lydia mumbled, her eyes on the diva as she worked the room; she was currently talking to Matt Rutherford about _Sundance _as different people approached to look at Rachel's engagement ring.

"Well I think they're moments away from throwing down on the floor." Jeremy observed as he bit into a carrot stick. Jesse abruptly turned to the other boy and smiled.

"Care to make a wager on just _when_ they'll give in?" Jesse asked with his eyebrow perched menacingly.

"Oh, I'm in." Lydia stated as she whipped out her wallet.

"Fifty says they won't make it to the wedding." Jeremy mumbled to Jesse and Lydia. He and Quinn spoke earlier that day and he felt he got some insiders' intell. Quinn made it perfectly clear to the boy that she was going to do everything in her power to have Rachel crack before the wedding. It was important to the blonde that she and Rachel admit their feelings to one another so they could go into their futures completely honest as wife and wife.

"Fifty sounds good to me, but I gotta say they're doing it in a month tops." Lydia whispered as she watched Jesse scribble down the terms on a cocktail napkin. She felt fairly confident she knew what was up. Two days ago, Quinn was practically crying she was so sexual frustrated. The blonde was pacing back and forth at Lydia's apartment, going on and on about how her and Rachel's constant fighting was akin to tortuous foreplay.

"I'll see your fifty," Jesse began with a grin. "And I'll raise you a further fifty they don't crack until _after_ the wedding." Jesse _knew _he had the advantage. He used to date Rachel. He saw how Quinn acted during high school. And he had separate and joint conversations with the couple on their feelings and views on the entire situation. Rachel was still _vehemently _denying her emotions where Quinn was concerned. And Quinn had made it quite plain that she wasn't going to admit to anything until Rachel A). "Realized how incredibly amazing of a fiancé I have been for the last year and a half—putting up with her diva-like behavior—and that I'm worthy enough to make a leap of faith and cop to her insanely strong feelings of love and animalistic-like lust."; and/or B). "Understands that I am not going anywhere—I'm not a Finn, a Jesse, or a Shelby—and that I truly want her in my life."

Everyone in the know was beyond frustrated with Rachel. The diva often used high-school-Quinn against the blonde in her arguments, stressing that although Quinn had been amazing over the last year and a half, she was just acting that way because she wanted security from Rachel; the same old manipulative Cheerio doing whatever she needed to do to get ahead. As far as the Jesse knew, Rachel had never actually come out and said those things to Quinn, but if that's what she believed, Jesse understood that it was going to take time for Rachel to see otherwise.

Sometimes he thought that Rachel was just using those arguments out of fear, terrified that once she admitted, out loud, that her feelings ran _very _deep, she'd be heartbroken and humiliated once again if their relationship were to ever end. Quinn filled in the blanks for him. Of course he hadn't been around for the aftermath of the "egging episode" but the blonde made it clear that, although Rachel had been sad, the thing that hurt the most was that everyone had seen it coming _except_ for the diva. She had gotten _a lot _of "I told you so's" from the gleeks. She had mostly been angry and mortified.

Finn's constant back and forth had Rachel _seriously _doubting herself. Using her when he was with Quinn. Dumping her for Santana and Brittany. Ending it over something as stupid as kissing Puck when it was clear she never had feelings for the badboy. Going after Quinn so soon after their break up. Dismissing Rachel regularly and making her feel so much lower than the blonde. Getting back together with her—as far as Rachel was concerned—when it seemed Quinn's feelings for him were not genuine. Constantly nitpicking everything Rachel did, or liked, or said. Taking her virginity—he _had_ made it somewhat special—but still acting like he was doing Rachel a favor by dating the diva. And the final nail on the coffin: cheating on her repeatedly when it was clear he would be going away to college and then dumping her unceremoniously with the bullshit excuse of "distance."

Shelby was another story. One Rachel didn't talk about. But Jesse—and more through Quinn's opinions—understood that Rachel's birth mother's rejection was just reiterating what the diva had grown to think: liking Rachel came with a shelf-life. She was expendable. She was merely to be tolerated, not loved.

Quinn's admission to the lie most certainly did not help.

In Jesse's opinion, the wedding was a tricky matter. Either it would prove to Rachel that Quinn was legit—around for the long-haul—or just further cement the diva's feelings that Quinn was _only _after a secure future and she'd lie and manipulate to get it.

Don't get him wrong, Jesse could see where Rachel was coming from—he had read about feelings, after all—but he sometimes wanted to pull his hair out over her complete obliviousness.

Like right at that moment, how could Rachel not see the unadorned expression of absolute love that Quinn was wearing as she watched the diva talk amongst Matt and his friends? Jesse was pretty sure that the casserole of food the blonde was holding was scalding hot yet, Quinn just held it as she stared at Rachel.

"Are you sure you want to take that bet, St. James? I'd hate to take your big, fancy Broadway money away from you?" Lydia mocked. The wedding date was still up in the air so Jesse had to pause to consider. If either _A Date a Month _or _Which of You, I Love _got into _Sundance, _or—hopefully—both, the wedding wouldn't occur until after the film festival; most likely late June. That was six months from then and _a lot _could happen in six months. But he also knew that in that time, Rachel had a major Broadway show to prepare for and then, of course, _Sundance _itself. Wedding planning was ridiculously stressful—it would be hard to contend with _all _of that _and _deal with one's feelings.

He felt very confident. "I'd be more concerned with how you intend to score your drug money when you both lose so spectacularly. Why don't you worry about _that_, Lydia, and leave the big thinking to me." He mumbled as he leaned against the kitchen table.

"I'd tell you I hate you, but I'm pretty sure you get that all the time and I'd hate to be the one that makes you cry in your merlot, St. James." Lydia muttered casually. Jesse swirled the wine in his glass and gave her a big smile.

"Please do not be concerned, Lydia; I only accept criticism from people who matter." The pair bickered back and forth as Jeremy happily munched away on the platter of vegetables, oblivious to the argument going on beside him. He was more concerned with how he was going to push Quinn and Rachel together. He liked Quinn. She was good with the dogs she walked and she was always so funny; although, he had to admit that it was probably more the weed than Quinn. But he could tell that all that the blonde needed was just someone who really loved her. And that was Rachel.

Rachel wasn't dumb like Quinn's other exes—he had heard the terrible stories. The diva made Quinn smile; something the blonde rarely did. And Rachel seemed to lessen the weight on Quinn's shoulders—she never spoke about her past, but it was clear there was a lot about Quinn that made her grow up very quickly. Rachel's child-like exuberance yet, extreme intelligence paired with fierce determination was the perfect combo for Quinn. So Jeremy had massive plans as to how he would push them together and win the bet. He'd set it into effect as soon as he smoked the blunt in his pocket—it was going to be hard to eat all that vegan food if he wasn't stoned.

Jeremy wasn't alone. Both Lydia and Jesse were of like minds—get Rachel and Quinn together. Throughout the week, it wasn't uncommon to walk into the pair's apartment to find them arguing over something petty. "_Rachel! For the _last _time; hang up your freaking wet towels!" _

Or…

"_Quinn Fabray, I swear on my entire collection of Broadway memorabilia, if you so much as _look _in my direction while we cross the street, I'll push you in front of the nearest taxi! I do _not _need a bodyguard to get around!" _

Usually the fighting would stop as soon as Jesse, Lydia, or Jeremy made their presence known. Then they would act like a completely different couple. For instance, the three sat on the kitchen counter as they watched Quinn and Rachel prepare for the engagement party with dumbfounded looks on their faces.

"_Rachel, can you mince the rosemary while I chop the mushrooms for the vinaigrette, please?" _

"_Of course, Quinn." Rachel answered absentmindedly as she got her cutting board ready. "How do I mince again?" She pouted up at Quinn with her eyebrows knitted. The blonde dried her hands on a towel and stepped behind the diva and took her hands in her own. _

"_First, what you want to do is…" _

Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy watched on as Quinn patiently showed Rachel to mince before she moved on to displaying the proper way to chop up the mushrooms. Rachel was very attentive and listened closely. As the engagement party drew closer, the couple danced around each other in the kitchen as they put the finishing touches on all of the food—working seamlessly with little to no conversation.

"_Rach, can you-"_

"_Got it." Rachel declared as she opened the oven. "Quinn, pass me the-"_

"_Here you go." Quinn mumbled as she opened the oven mitts for Rachel to place her hands in. _

As they worked, it was difficult to remember that when the three had arrived earlier that evening, Rachel was screaming at Quinn to stop rearranging everything in the apartment for the millionth time. The blonde yelled right back at Rachel and barked at the diva to worry about getting ready; the diva was still in Quinn's t-shirt and shorts and not her party dress.

And then, once again, their attitude towards each other shifted when the first guest arrived. Suddenly, they were the perfect couple; fawning all over each other, speaking sweetly; affectionate and considerate. It would have been disconcerting if it weren't so obvious that they were _finally_ acting naturally. The fights they shared all week were mostly due in part because they were just so crazy about each other and unable to show it properly. So they fought. They were high school Rachel and Quinn.

When Jesse, Jeremy, or Lydia was around, they were best friends. They shared inside jokes, made each other laugh, and were very thoughtful of one another. And if they were in the company of strangers, or people who didn't know that their relationship was a lie, they were almost too affectionate. Too sweet. Almost too in love. Like they were making up for lost time. And they were.

Their fight earlier that week on Monday had been the beginning. By Tuesday, the gloves officially came off…

_Tuesday morning arrived at six, just like it always did for Rachel Berry. She stretched and groaned before she flung herself out of bed with a smile and bright eyes. Today would be the first day she'd be meeting with Ainsley about her new Broadway play. _Rachel Berry's_ new _Broadway_ play. _

_Still nestled in bed was a head of blonde hair and the soft rise and fall of Quinn's chest. Rachel smiled at the scene, happy that the blonde was still asleep. Quinn hadn't arrived home until very late the previous night, her meeting with Jesse and Thomas, supposedly, ended with lots of drinks—none of which Quinn took part in—and a lot of back slapping when Jesse signed on the dotted line. He would be leaving for Europe that coming weekend, just a day after Rachel and Quinn's engagement party. _

_Rachel had already been asleep by the time Quinn got home, so it was nice to wake up next to the blonde…okay, it was nice to wake up holding the blonde. It was an unconscious thing that always seemed to happen. Rachel would fall asleep in pale arms and wake up with her face inhaling the sweet scent of blonde hair. _

_While the diva pumped away on her elliptical, she thought of everything she needed to do. The engagement party still needed planning, but Rachel honestly couldn't spend another day in the apartment. Technically, Ainsley and Rachel weren't supposed to meet until the following week. But in Quinn's absence the night before, Rachel spent her time memorizing lines and drawing up a list of questions about the screenplay. She had called Ainsley and practically begged him to meet with her. After his laughter finally died down, they had planned on meeting to discuss everything. _

_Rachel finished off her workout and made her way to the bathroom with a furrowed brow; Quinn wasn't up yet. That was unusual. _She did have a late night…perhaps a few more minutes of sleep is needed_. Rachel thought. She peeled off her workout attire and jumped into the lukewarm shower while she kept a running checklist of everything she wished to discuss with Ainsley. _

_It was ten of eight when Rachel stood beside her and Quinn's bed, a puzzled expression on her face, and hands on her hips. Quinn was still asleep. The diva glanced at her alarm clock as her stomach rumbled in hunger and realized that she had maybe a half an hour to play with before she was late meeting Ainsley. That meant that Quinn would need to get up _right_ away, make something _really_ quickly, and Rachel would need to throw it down her throat before she dashed off for the meeting. _

"_Quinn?" Rachel whispered as she nudged the blonde's shoulder. No response. "Quinn?" The diva tried again, this time a little louder. Quinn grunted a little but did not appear out from under the covers. "Quinn? Are you awake?" _

"_No." Came the raspy reply. Rachel frowned and put her hands back on her hips. _

"_Quinn, if I don't eat breakfast soon I'll be late for my meeting." Rachel stated as she tapped her foot. _

_There was a momentary pause and then the blonde rolled over to peak out from under her blanket. She blinked a few times as she stared at the alarm clock before she rolled back over again, disappearing under the comforter. "Then I guess you better make it fast, huh?" Quinn mumbled. _

_Rachel's mouth dropped open as she blanched. Not a second later, Quinn's breathing evened out and the diva realized she was not going to get anywhere with the blonde. "Fine." Rachel said out loud. "I'll just make it myself." The diva stormed out of the bedroom and spent the next fifteen minutes making a mess out of the kitchen before she finally gave up and grabbed a muffin to eat on her way. _

_Under the covers, still in bed, Quinn chuckled happily to herself before she sighed contentedly and dropped back off to sleep, thoughts of Rachel's failed breakfast attempts and the loud cursing she had heard coming from the kitchen still playing in her head. _

Later that day, Rachel had come home to find the mess she had made still lying about and a note from the blonde telling Rachel she'd be home later and to order take-out. Rachel mumbled irritably under her breath while she washed the dishes, upset that she'd be spending another night alone.

On Wednesday, Quinn decided it would be fun to push Rachel's buttons a little more…

_Rachel was still beaming as the taxi dropped her off in front of her apartment. The meeting with Ainsley had gone exceptionally well that day, much like it had the day before. The story of he and Charlene's love was epic; the fact that it was a true story, only made it that much more awe-inducing. _

_Ainsley Swaine and Charlene O'Connell had met when they were nine and eight respectively. They grew up in the same neighborhood but didn't attend school with one another because Ainsley's family had been too poor to send him to Catholic school. They had met because he was the O'Connell's paperboy. _

_Charlene was one of six and Ainsley would start and end each day at the O'Connell's with the excuse that he wanted to hang out with Charlene's big brother Jim. But mostly, he just really liked annoying Charlene. _

_At sixteen, Charlene finally accepted Ainsley's invitation for a date. By their late teens, they were madly in love and planning for their future. Not long after that, Ainsley's birthday was called and he was shipped to Vietnam for the war. But of course, in great old love fashion, they had spent one memorable night together before he left. _

_To this day, Ainsley still regrets not immediately dropping down to one knee and proposing when Charlene told him she was pregnant. But in his defense, his head was a little messed up because of the war. But five kids and over forty years later, she eventually forgave him. _

_On paper, it's the most romantic of romantic love stories. Young love, war, Catholic parents trying to break them apart, an eventual happy ending…all stuff of a legendary romance. But what makes their story unique is that fact that it's true, they have lasted, they made a boat-full of money along the way, and that they did it all while laughing. _

_It amazed Rachel that Ainsley and Charlene could joke like they did. They were two regular people with such an irregular story that often times when Rachel would read over the play, she'd forget that the story was true and all the events were real. _

_She was so lost in her world of love and the satisfaction from the meeting, that she didn't immediately register the unusual music that was playing as she entered the apartment. "Honey, I'm hoooh my, God." Rachel's bag slipped from her grasp as she stared at the state of her apartment. _

"_Oh hey, Rach." Quinn greeted with a smile. But Rachel was frozen in the doorway as _Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ filled the silence. The blonde hid her smile by turning back towards the Christmas tree to hang another ornament. She was nearly done. Colored lights ran the span of the apartment thumb-tacked to the walls, Christmas candles donned most of the surfaces with holly and greens mixed in, pictures of Santa, his reindeer, and snowmen were taped to walls and doors, and in the back corner, carefully placed around Rachel's elliptical, was a rather large plastic replica of the nativity. "I'm glad you're home. I was saving the star for you." Quinn replied with a sickeningly sweet smile as she stood to face the stunned diva. _

_Rachel gaped and stuttered as her wide eyes looked around the apartment. She had never seen such a display before. The previous year, Christmas had been skipped. The pair had watched movies and ate Chinese food. Quinn hadn't particularly minded that they had skipped over Christmas; she hadn't had a real holiday in quite some time, and it was an entertaining enough night. _

_But now that the truth was out in the opening—read: she wasn't converting to Judaism for Rachel—Quinn couldn't help but push Rachel's buttons. In the Fabray house, decorations had been understated. Candles in the windows and white lights around the tall tree—nothing more. Judy Fabray said that colored lights were trashy. Russell said that too many decorations were classless. Frannie Fabray thought Santa Claus was a petty criminal— breaking and entering. No one bothered to ask Quinn. In truth, she kind of had to agree with her family. But it didn't stop her from decorating the apartment as though Santa vomited up an elf. _

_The subject of Rachel Berry had Quinn Fabray seriously conflicted. At any given moment, the blonde could be found deep in thought trying to come up with ways to make the diva admit how she felt. Other times, Quinn was seconds away from ripping Rachel's hair out for not admitting her feelings. In the in-between times, Quinn was almost certain that all she needed to do was continue on the path she had already started—standing silently beside Rachel until the time was right. _

_All the Quinns were at war. She'd snapped at Rachel one moment, be sweet the next, only to turn around and stand her ground—to just be the perfect friend. There was a lot going on in the blonde's head. So instead of listening to one, Quinn Fabray just decided to let all the Quinns loose and see what happened. She had thought it the perfect plan as she shopped for the Christmas decorations at the dollar store. _

_Rachel swallowed down the litany of colorful phrases that bubbled up from deep within and forced a smile on her face. "I see you've had a busy day." The diva said as she picked her bag up and strode in to the bedroom. She truly had no problem with Quinn celebrating Christmas. No problem at all. It was just a little disconcerting that the blonde hadn't so much as said "God, bless you" in the last year and a half and suddenly she was a Christmas worshipper again. _

"_I just figured with Christmas in two days, I'd better get a move on things." Quinn grinned as she followed the diva into the kitchen. Quinn smiled over Rachel's shoulder as the diva stood frozen in the kitchen archway. Every single counter surface was covered in Christmas cookies. _

"_You've been _really _busy." Rachel said with a choked laugh. _

"_I know that I'm not the best baker in the world, but I could hardly resist." Quinn grinned before she picked up a cookie and nibbled on it with a smile. _

_Rachel nodded slowly, still in a daze, and went to pick up a cookie. "Aw, sorry, Rach, they're not vegan." _

"_Oh." Rachel said as she swallowed down her hurt. Quinn felt guilty about it, but she really did hate baking and if she was going to make Christmas cookies, she wanted to do it _right_. When Rachel turned her back to retreat to the bedroom, however, Quinn quickly tossed the cookie she had been nibbling on. _

_In all honesty, the previous evening Quinn had decided that she would give up her vegan ways. She treated herself to a bacon cheeseburger when she went out with Ainsley and Jesse. The blonde later considered that she should have, perhaps, started a little slower. Because later that night she had been _violently _ill; her body wasn't exactly used to meat and cheese. The Christmas cookies were merely for show. She was planning to give all of them away. Rachel didn't need to know that she had only been non-vegan for the length of a bacon cheeseburger. And that could hardly count because…well…she had been _**violently** _ill. _

Thursday was even more interesting. Neither girl had anywhere to be so they decided they'd sit down and hash out their engagement party.

_They sat on the couch as they "brainstormed," but both were actually only thinking about the girl next to them. _

Why the hell isn't she just confronting me? I'm making a million changes and she hasn't said one freaking thing!

We no longer clean, cook, or cater to her. We're suddenly not vegan...so she thinks. We decorated for Christmas…still _nothing_!

All she has to do is open that sexy mouth of hers and say something, we fight it out, she admits her feelings…presto change-o, we're happy and in love!

_Rachel was at the other end of the couch, lightly tapping her pen on her notebook as her mind whirled. _

I can't believe so much has changed.

Did you really expect her to take care of you for forever?

It's not that…it's just what all the changes mean. She was doing all that stuff just to make me believe her lie…every little change she has made it just a reminder of the truth.

_This went on for nearly an hour. Both of them just in their silent little worlds of miscommunication until finally Rachel realized how much time had passed. "Perhaps were should get started?" _

"_Oh! Um…right." Quinn said with a start when she saw the time. She sat up a little on the couch. "So I guess food is a good place to star-"_

"_Did you ever love Finn?" Quinn's eyebrows shot up at the question, completely caught off-guard; the F word was rarely ever mentioned. _

"_Oookay, where did that come from?" Quinn asked with a smile. _

"_I was just wondering." Rachel answered in a daze. She had been thinking a lot about it since the truth came out. _

"_No, never." Quinn answered as she slid her legs up on the couch. "You?" The blonde bit her lip nervously. Finn Hudson wasn't a threat to her, she just _really _didn't want to hear Rachel say she had when the diva wouldn't admit to her feelings for Quinn. _

"_I don't think so. No." Rachel said slowly. "It's just…" _

"_It's just what?" Quinn asked softly. _

_Rachel looked up and smiled before she chuckled. "Do you remember that day…" _

_Another hour passed. Quinn was lying on the couch tossing grapes up in the air for Rachel to catch. _

"_I find it resoundingly ridiculous that you spent so much time plotting and planning." Rachel grinned as she hovered over Quinn. The blonde was shaking with laughter with a bowel full of grapes on her stomach. _

"_I missed my calling in the CIA." Quinn mumbled as she wiped away her tears. _

"_And you would have gotten away with it if you weren't such a bitch to Finn." Rachel chuckled before she arched her neck to catch the grape Quinn just threw. _

"_I'm sorry…but _how did _put up with him?" _

"_How did you put up with Sam?" Rachel screeched. Quinn laughed again as she shrugged. _

"_Honestly…he wasn't as self-righteous as Finn." _

_Rachel nodded empathically before she caught another grape. "And the Puckster?" Quinn laughed as she looked up at Rachel; the blonde's perspective showing an upside-down diva, beaming proudly. _

"_Mucho alcohol." Quinn grinned as she popped a grape in her mouth. "You?" _

_Rachel giggled a little before she started full-on laughing. "I really just wanted a badboy chapter for my memoires." Quinn slapped the diva's thigh as she gasped. _

"_Rachel Berry, that is terrible." _

"_What do you miss about glee club?" Quinn hummed a little as she thought. It didn't take long to come up with an answer, she just wasn't sure if she wanted to share it or not. _

"_Watching you sing." She eventually whispered as she smiled softly. Rachel bit her lip as she stared down at the blonde, the air around them thickening. _

"_You watch me sing all the time." Rachel said back. _

"_Yeah…but it's different. You were all angsty and passionate about things. It was fun to watch." Quinn answered with a smile. _

"_I was not angsty!" Rachel scoffed indignantly. _

"_Oh you so were, Berry!" _

"_Fine, whatever." Rachel replied with a playful eye roll. _

"_How about you, what do you miss?" Rachel grinned easily as she lolled her head back against the couch. _

"_Beating everyone out for a solo." She said wistfully. Quinn chuckled as she slapped Rachel's thigh again. _

"_You're terrible. Truly a _terrible_ person!"Quinn stated with a smile. _

"_Yeah, but you love me." Rachel's laughter immediately died away as the two girls just somberly stared at one another. It had been such a fun day for the two. They had talked about subjects long forgotten but important nonetheless, but now they were skating on such thin ice, they could practically hear it cracking around them. _

_Quinn wanted nothing more than to say yes, or at least nod her consent. To push down on Rachel's neck until the diva's lips were on hers. Anything, _something_ to show Rachel that she did love her. But Rachel broke eye contact and quickly got off the couch. _

"_We really should start planning this engagement party." She chuckled nervously as she pushed a dark curl behind her ear. Quinn sucked on her teeth as she slowly sat up on the couch. Suddenly angry Quinn wanted to be tagged into the ring. _

"_We wouldn't have to plan at all if you would have just done everything Monday." She snapped. _

_Rachel whirled around, hands on her hips, and looked at Quinn with a frown. "I'm sorry that I was more concerned with the play, Quinn, but there is work to be done! Instead of decorating for Christmas, _you _could have planned it!" _

_Quinn jumped off the couch and cocked her hip as she crossed her arms over her chest. "So my religion isn't important to you?" _

_Rachel advanced on the blonde as her jaw tightened. "I never said that, Quinn Fabray! I just hardly feel it is necessary to put down my work ethic! I was merely pointing out that it isn't fair to place blame when you've had free time just as I have had and neither one of us has made use of it!" _

_Quinn quickly tried to find a clever retort. "I can't believe you think I'd put down your work ethic! You must think that I'm an awful person!" Well…she tried, anyway. _

"_How could you even _say _that?" Rachel yelled back as she threw her arms up in the air. _

"_Is this because I haven't made you breakfast, because if that's it, Rachel, I'd be more than happy to make whatever the _hell_ you want!" _

"_Oh just shut up, Quinn!" Rachel mumbled back as she crossed her arms over her heaving chest, not daring to look at Quinn's crackling hazel eyes. _

"_Shut up? Did you just tell me to shut up?" The blonde asked as she moved closer to the diva. _

"_I don't care that you don't cook for me! I don't care that you don't clean! I don't care if you celebrate Christmas! Hell, you could slaughter a cow in front of me and eat it bloody for all I gave a hoot!" Rachel screamed as she poked Quinn's chest, her dark eyes narrowed as she stood on tiptoes to gain height for leverage. _

"_You are the most _infuriating _person I've ever met, Rachel Berry, and I'd watch what I say if I were you, because I have half a mind to find the nearest farm!" Quinn yelled back, her voice nearly raw from exertion. _

"_By allll means, Quinn, _Do. It!" _Rachel whispered menacingly, their eyes locked, their noses almost touching. _

"_For Christmas," Quinn whispered as her eyes bore into Rachel's. "I'm buying you leather pants and a gift card to McDonalds." The blonde hissed. _

"_That's juuuuust fine." Rachel seethed as she licked her lips at the sight of Quinn's panting. "Because I have _big _plans to send Christmas cards to Finn Hudson, Noah Puckerman, and Sam Evans all with a lovely message from you within, stating your undying love and obsession for each one of them! _Huge _plans!" _

"_Like I give a shit." Quinn breathed out as her eyes danced over the diva's face, soaking in the arousal she saw reflected back. _

"_And Santana Lopez." Rachel whispered back triumphantly. _

_Quinn gasped before her eyes narrowed to slits. "You wouldn't." _

"_Oh, but I would." Rachel growled, her bottom lip almost touching Quinn's as her heart pounded and her body shook. Quinn wasn't fairing much better. She was very aware that she was seconds away from jumping Rachel. _

"_Um…should I come back?" Both girls spun around to find Jeremy standing there, a few Christmas cookies in his hands and mouth, as he stood wide-eyed and slightly scared. _

"_NO!" _

"_YES!" They both screamed at the same time. _

Not long after that, both girls apologized to Jeremy. As the boy ate half of the Christmas cookies, the girls sat down and calmly planned the party, very aware that they had a witness watching over them—they couldn't kill or kiss while Jeremy sat there.

Friday morning was another matter all together.

Rachel had gotten up extra early to make Quinn breakfast—well…she heated up a muffin, poured a glass of juice, and delivered it to the sleeping blonde. Quinn was woken up to Rachel singing _I'm Getting Nuttin for Christmas, _a sheepish smile, and a matching hat, gloves, and scarf set under the tree. Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy were invited—both girls wanted things to remain friendly between them, it was an unspoken agreement—and the five ate, watched movies, and sang Christmas songs—okay…Rachel and Jesse sang.

It had been a tumultuous few days that culminated with both girls desperate to cut the tension. It was exhausting not to show their affection and it was a relief to be so couple-ly around their friends. Quinn needed it. She had been looking forward to the party all week. She hated snapping at the diva. She hated not preparing her meals and taking care of her. The party was a great excuse.

Rachel, however, saw the party as a reprieve. She had a plan that would go into effect and the engagement party was her last night to truly _enjoy _Quinn. To revel in the blonde's kisses and touches and let herself make-believe that they were genuine. Because come the next day, Operation Double-Check to See if Quinn Fabray Really Wants to be Tied to Me Forever, would start.

But for the night, the diva would drop her guard and just be in love. That, and she'd get really drunk.

As the few dozen guests mingled around the apartment, talking, singing, dancing, and enjoying Quinn's cooking, Rachel Berry stood alone as she watched her fiancé bustle about.

_Look at her…She's…_radiant_! _

_Mesmerizing, truly._

_Her smiles are like clouds of realizations that rain adoration wherever she goes! _

_We'd gladly bask in her, sans umbrella! _

_We'd walk barefoot through the streets of New York City, spinning around street lamps as we soaked in her essence! _

_Oh! We need more wine! _

"Quiiinnn?" Rachel Berry stood atop the living room couch as the party around her danced and drank. The blonde was currently in the middle of a conversation with a group of Rachel's school friends. _Charming them, no doubt! _Rachel thought with a lopsided grin as she held her wine glass aloft and called out over the music. "Quinnie, sweetheart!"

The diva watched as Henry nudged Quinn and nodded towards Rachel with a chuckle. The blonde spun around and lurched forward as she saw Rachel sway precariously on top of the couch. "I got you." Quinn laughed as she held Rachel upright and guided her off the sofa.

"Yes you _do_." Rachel giggled as she tapped Quinn's nose, getting the blonde to smile.

"You're about to ask me for more wine, aren't you?"

"I am, indeed." Rachel nodded firmly. "But first!" The diva wiggled out of the blonde embrace and moved over to the iPod deck and paused the music. "Everyone! Everyone! Can I pleasssse have your unwavering attention momentarily while I make a very important announcement."

"Okay, Rach." Quinn chuckled awkwardly as she tried to pull Rachel towards the bathroom to get the diva cleaned up; having a Rachel Berry drunken announcement was sure to be cringe-worthy and highly inappropriate, not to mention telling. It could span anywhere from, "Quinn and I are faking it," to "I have yet to have sex with Quinn and I'm dying to, so you all need to leave." And while Quinn would love to hear the latter, she knew that it was best that Rachel _not _announce that in front of all of their friends.

"But, Quinn! I have something very important to say." Rachel whispered to the blonde before she turned to the room at large. "Everyone!" Their guests were smiling as they waited for what Rachel would say next. Well…Lydia and Jesse were smirking their excitement because they were both certain that it would be cringe-worthy and inappropriate in the best way possible. "I just wanted to thank you all for coming this evening to celebrate me and my fiancé's happiness." Everyone _awwwed _and Quinn's face flushed; she was positive that Rachel was just about to get to the awkward part. "And also my grand success." The room chuckled at Rachel's ego.

"Baby, I think it's time to put the music back on before you say something you don't want to say." Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear. No one could hear what the blonde said, so it wasn't necessary for Quinn to use the term of endearment, but she figured that Rachel was drunk enough to let it go and, after all, she could always pass it off as habit.

She had done that a lot the past week. Everything was a habit to Quinn; it was like she was a junky. When Rachel would appear confused or obviously caught off-guard by the blonde's over affectionate behavior, Quinn would pass it off as planning for the future. Using terms of endearment and holding hands was practice for when they were in the media. Constant vigilance and all that. If they weren't use to being that way with each other in private, they'd forget to be that way in public and people would catch on.

Rachel congratulated Quinn on her smart thinking and happily went along. Of course, the media would never be around to catch Rachel and Quinn spooning at night in bed, but obviously, neither girl objected to doing so. What started out as a "habit," was now just common practice to "prepare for the future." So they kissed each other goodbye at the door or hello when they saw one another. Just a peck. But for Rachel and Quinn, it was better than nothing. Especially since they had been fighting like cats and dogs all week.

"I'm not going to say anything to embarrass you, Quinn." Rachel chided as she turned back to her laughing audience. "Quinn's worried I'll say something embarrassing." She told the room with a playful roll of her eyes. Everyone laughed again and the blonde covered her reddening face; she hated attention.

"I wouldn't dream of saying anything to upset you, sweetie. Like…that you have a luscious rear end or you absolutely go weak in the knees when I suck on your tongue."

"Oh my, God." Quinn mumbled in embarrassment as the room exploded in to laughter. Rachel looked mighty pleased with herself. "Come on, Rach." Quinn keyed up the music to prevent the diva from saying anything more and tugged on Rachel's hand as she steered her towards the bathroom.

"Thank you all for coming!" The diva called out as Quinn dragged her away.

Rachel was still giggling as Quinn shut the bathroom door and then promptly pouted up at the frowning blonde. "You're not cross with me, are you? I was just being facetious."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the diva and leaned her up against the sink as she used some tissues to wipe away Rachel's smeared make up. "Just hold still." Quinn whispered as she ran the tissue underneath the diva's eyes.

Rachel looked up at Quinn as her chest heaved. _She's so good to us. _

_I hate that we've been fighting all week. _

_She looks so pretty. I love when her hair is down and flowing. _

_And how her eyebrows are all smooshed together like that when she's concentrating really hard. _

_Sigh…and her lips. _

_Oh, God her lips. _

_All week long all I've wanted to do while we fought was attack those lips!_

"You know…" Rachel breathed out quietly. They were so close. Quinn's body was practically up against the diva's. This was the first time in a long time they had been that close and not fighting or sleeping "Everyone probably thinks that we are in here doing quite scandalous things to one another." Rachel stated as casually as possible.

Quinn's hazel eyes latched on to Rachel's as her eyebrow quirked. The diva's wide, vulnerable eyes gazed back at Quinn's with so much desire that all the blonde could do was swallow thickly as she nodded. "Probably." Quinn breathed out.

"It would almost be…expected." Rachel murmured as she stared at the blonde's lips. Quinn caught on quickly.

"If we were to go out there right away, it would seem…suspicious." Quinn mumbled as her gaze dropped to Rachel's parted lips. The diva nodded back silently. "Maybe we should…to keep up appearances…stay in here a little longer?" Quinn whispered as her body inched closer to Rachel's.

"Perhaps we should." Rachel mumbled back as Quinn placed her hands on either side of the diva on top of the bathroom sink. "Although…"

"Although, what?" Quinn quickly asked in a puff of air, not at all liking the idea of being even a centimeter away from Rachel. If she couldn't show the brunette just how much she wanted her, physically, she'd settle for just being close to her.

Rachel chose her words carefully as the sounds of conversations and music filtered through the cracks of the bathroom door. They stood a breath away from one another in an intimate bubble and couldn't be broken. "Just leaving the bathroom together isn't enough." Rachel whispered as her hips arched away from the sink to be closer to Quinn. In the back of her mind, Rachel knew that she was being overly forward. But she was drunk. And she had been watching Quinn all night. When she wasn't watching the blonde, they were pretending to be couple-y. Each peck, each touch, each pronouncement of love made Rachel desperate for more. It could be her last chance to _be_ that close once the operation took effect. She had to go for it. She had wanted to so badly all week.

"What do you mean?" Quinn breathed out, almost moaning at the feel of Rachel's lower half against hers.

"We'll look no different than when we came in here. But if…"

"But what?" Quinn asked softly as her palms scooted on top of the sink to move nearer to Rachel's body.

"But if our lips are slightly bruised…if we look as though we had just been…kissing…perhaps it will make it all that more believable."

"Yeah." Quinn sighed as she moved even closer to Rachel. "If our clothes and hair are slightly disheveled, that will convince them."

"Absolutely." Rachel mumbled as she arched her neck to move her lips closer to Quinn's. "A good healthy make out session will show them that we are, in fact, doing scandalous things in here."

"I don't think we were very convincing tonight," Quinn mumbled against Rachel's lips. "I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who don't really believe we're together."

There weren't.

"I wholly agree." Rachel breathed out as her hands slid to Quinn's waist and their noses brushed.

"We'll show them."

"Absurd that they call us into question."

"Ridiculous. You are the best actress and I'm a fantastic liar." Quinn whispered as her lower lip slid against Rachel's and her palms ran up the diva's sides until she was cupping Rachel's face softly.

"We'll just have to step up our game somewhat."

"Make out for a little."

"Dance together when we are through."

"Kiss while we dance."

"Suggestively."

"I should give you a hickey."

"I should return the favor."

"You should run your fingers through my hair while we make out to make it look disheveled."

"You should cling to my dress to slightly ruffle it."

"Maybe a few buttons should be undone."

"As though in our hazy lust-filled make out session, we were too distracted to button them."

"Attention to detail is important."

"I concur fully." Both girls held back their loud moans as they finally kissed, not willing to show just how much they were enjoying themselves. Rachel gripped at Quinn's waist tightly as the blonde's fingers brushed away Rachel's dark hair and ran her hands down the diva's neck and shoulders.

"Maybe we should be vocal." Rachel got out just before Quinn's lips crashed upon hers once more. This time, Rachel moaned. Her moan had been so loud and the tightness in her stomach so strong that she was absolutely sure she wouldn't be able to hold back another groan of pleasure once she felt Quinn's tongue slide against her own.

"Great idea." Quinn released a completely real moan as Rachel's tongue dove into her mouth. She also knew that holding back her intense desire would be problematic. Her moans were deafening and as she felt Rachel's hands drop a fraction of an inch closer to her ass, the realization that they were only going to get louder had her easily agreeing. Besides, no one would hear them over the music.

"I must warn you, I'm a method actor." Rachel mumbled before she sucked on Quinn's tongue and scratch at the material of Quinn's dress.

"I know your process. Do what you must." Quinn rushed out as she held Rachel's cheeks with her palms as chased the diva's tongue with her own.

Quinn pinned Rachel's body against the sink as she fought to remain standing. Her flushed body rippled with arousal from the heat wafting off of the diva. She was so incredibly wet. All week her panties had been soaked with each encounter with the diva. Each fight was a little more intense. Each touch was a hint too intimate. All week it had been leading to this and Quinn wasn't at all surprised that her body was reacting almost instantaneously.

"Unbutton the back of my dress and run your hands over my skin." Rachel moaned as Quinn's lips worked on that promised hickey. The blonde released a breathy whimper as her fingers hurriedly undid the buttons, loving that Rachel was telling her what to do. "It will be more convincing because you're…_oh, God_, actually doing it." Rachel's breath hitched as she felt Quinn's hands on her naked back.

"You should probably squeeze my ass, then…you know…to make it real." Quinn mumbled, her husky voice almost coarse, as her lips brushed against Rachel's neck before she licked the skin and began sucking once more. Rachel's hands fisted Quinn's dress at the thought and her eyes slammed shut as her heart raced. She swallowed down the slew of vulgar language that came to mind and took one deep breath before she slid her hands lower until her palms were full of Quinn's ass.

"I did mention earlier that you had a luscious rear end." Rachel panted as Quinn's mouth kissed along the diva's collarbone and her hands worked on undoing more buttons until Rachel's back was completely exposed.

"I remember." Quinn quivered out as Rachel's hands cupped her ass. "I think…" The blonde let out a breathy moan and subtly rocked her hips against Rachel's. "I think I mentioned one…_shit_, time…to, um…someone, that I really liked your legs." Rachel felt lightheaded and dizzy as Quinn's hands danced down her sides and to her ass until she was picking Rachel up and placing her on the edge of the sink.

"_Quinn_." Rachel released in a surprised gasp that barely made any sound; her fingers instantly threading through blonde hair as Quinn's hands ran up the diva's legs until Rachel's dress was hitched high up on her thighs. Quinn didn't know whether or not this was Rachel giving in, finally admitting her feelings, but she wouldn't miss her opportunity.

Rachel's hand directed Quinn's chin towards her mouth and both girls were moaning again as they kissed deeply.

And outside the bathroom…

Leaning against the kitchen table, Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy stood staring at the bathroom door with furrowed brows. "I think you both owe me fifty bucks." Jeremy mumbled. "This wild mushroom crostini is magnificent. I need to get the recipe from Quinn."

"There's no way they're…they're just…they're not _doing _anything." Jesse muttered.

"I don't owe you anything. I said they wouldn't make it a month." Lydia stated, three sets of eyes still on the door as the party carried on around them.

"They can't actually be doing stuff in there." Jesse reiterated.

"Rachel's drunk." Jeremy commented with a shrug.

"But Quinn's not. She's sworn off alcohol since that night in the bar." Lydia replied dryly.

"It doesn't matter if Quinn's sober, it's Rachel that's stopping more from happening." Jesse huffed as his crossed his arms. "If they are doing anything at all in there, it's for show. They haven't admitted to anything."

"But the bet was that they'd throw down." Jeremy smirked.

"_Actually _throw down." Jesse corrected. "We'll find out from Quinn if what they are in fact doing is _real, _and only then will you get your drug money, Sheen." Jesse said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm knocking." Lydia nodded as she watched Jesse approach the door.

"No!" Jeremy tried to get out around the mushroom crostini.

Inside the bathroom…

"Oh, God." Quinn moaned softly as her eyes trailed down to the front of Rachel's dress where it gaped. She could clearly see Rachel's breasts and her body flamed at the sight. Rachel was praying as well, but for a different reason. Quinn's hands were high on the diva's thighs and she was ready to beg for the blonde to continue onward and upward. She weighed just how far she could take their ruse—could Rachel really tell Quinn to fuck her brains out in a fake attempt to convince their guests that they were actually together? No. Could she throw caution to the wind and plead with the blonde to take her because she was drunk and horny? Probably not. Could she beseech the love of her life to make love to her because she was desperate for her? Absolutely not! But what she could do was enjoy what they were doing while it lasted.

Quinn's forehead was resting on Rachel's shoulder, her eyes staring down the neckline of Rachel's dress, while Rachel sunk her teeth into the blonde's skin when it happened. Two loud knocks sounded and the girls jerked away from one another as they traded panicked looks.

"Just a minute!"

"Be with you in a moment!"

"Just powdering our noses!"

"Be right there!" They both yelled as Rachel slid off the sink and began fixing her hair. "Oh my, God, what should we do? What should we do?" The diva whispered to Quinn in horror as she spun around for the blonde to button up her dress.

Quinn was quickly fixing her own hair while she tried to wipe away Rachel's lipstick off. Rachel was furiously smoothing down her dress and Quinn's at the same time. "Just act naturally it's-" Suddenly Quinn's arms fell to her sides before she turned to Rachel. "What are we doing?"

Rachel's eyebrows knitted as she looked back up at Quinn. Both girls were still very flushed and the lust-glaze still prevalent in their dark eyes. "What do you mean?" Quinn chuckled as she shook her head in amusement.

"We're acting like we just got caught by our parents. But, Rach, this is our _engagement_ party and we're in here _hoping _someone thinks were doing scandalous things in here. What's the big deal?"

Rachel plopped down onto the toilet seat and breathed out a sigh of relief. She had no idea why she just acted as though she got her hand caught in the cookie jar. "Of course." The diva mumbled with a laugh. She smiled as she covered her face with her palm before dropping it to look up at the blonde. Their eyes met and they both laughed at their own reactions. "We're ridiculous." Rachel said with a smile.

"You're face was priceless." Quinn mocked as she turned towards the door.

"What are you doing?"

"Buying us more time." Quinn answered back with a smirk. Quinn opened the door to come face to face with a very angry Jesse St. James. "What do you want?" Quinn huffed.

"What are you two doing?" He asked, his arms folded. Just over his shoulder, Quinn could see Lydia and Jeremy also staring at her. Everyone else was blissfully unaware of the conversation.

"_Jesse!" _Quinn hissed as she tried to communicate with her eyes for the boy to fuck off.

Jesse huffed as he tried to see passed the blonde. "Are you two doing what I _think _you're doing?" He asked with a frown.

"Yes!" Quinn hissed before she rolled her eyes. "Well…no," She acquisitioned. "Sort of." She finally settled on. Jesse smiled brightly, aware that what Quinn was _really _saying was that they hadn't admitted to anything.

"Exquisite. Carry on." Jesse said before he turned away from the door.

"Ugh, you're gross." Quinn mumbled before she shut the door. Rachel's head was still ducked as she fidgeted with her fingers and chewed on her lip. She _really _wanted to go back to kissing Quinn. She'd use whatever excuse in the book to do so.

"Who was it?" Rachel whispered with a playful grin.

"Your lovely ex-boyfriend." Quinn grunted and rolled her eyes again.

Rachel squeaked as the blonde settled down onto her lap and flung her arms around the diva's neck. "I think we have a ten minute window so we better make it good." Quinn breathed out in a rush before she brought her lips to Rachel's again.

"Please don't call him that." Rachel mumbled against Quinn's lips before she sucked on the blonde's tongue.

"Hmm?" Quinn asked as she fisted Rachel's hair.

"Jesse. Don't call him my ex-boyfriend." Rachel whimpered as Quinn's teeth slid against her lower lip.

"Stop…talking…bout…him." Quinn breathed out before she slid her tongue deeply into Rachel's mouth, garnering a moan from the diva.

"Sitting down," Rachel moaned. "Is so much better." Quinn nodded silently, her mouth slightly open, as the diva began kissing her neck again.

Outside the bathroom…

"Wipe the grins off your faces," Jesse said as he strolled up to Lydia and Jeremy. "They're just keeping up appearances like I thought."

"Aw, man!"

"Fucking bullshit."

"The bet continues." Jesse smirked as he finished off the rest of his wine.

"Hey, guys. Where's Quinn and Rachel?" Matt asked with a smile as he approached the trio.

"Getting' down and dirty in the bathroom." Jeremy grinned. Matt's smile faltered.

"Um…cool."

Inside the bathroom…

_God, I could do this forever!_

_What are the chances no one will need to use the bathroom for the rest of the party?_

_Do you think we could get away with staying in here the whole night? _

_Rachel doesn't seem to be in a rush to leave. _

_Is it wrong that she's drunk and we're kind of taking advantage? _

_We go through this every time! She loves us! She wants this! She's just an idiot who can't admit her feelings! Just…just shut up and kiss the hot girl! _

…_Well…I, um…I have to say…_

_What?_

_I _really _like doing this!_

_I know, making out with your pretend fiancé is so much more fun when you're actually aware of your undying love and comfortable with your newly realized sexuality!_

_OH, I know! But I actually meant the sneaking around thing. It's almost like…role-playing._

_Right! Coming up with excuses to make out. Hot! Super hot!_

_Jesus, her moans are ridiculously sexy. _

_Mmmm, I think she's going to grab our ass again. _

_I'm thiiis close to losing it. _

_If she sucks on our tongue one more time, and moans while doing it, I'm pretty sure all hope is lost. _

_I'm seriously considering just picking a fight to crank things up a notch. _

_I was _just _thinking that! _

_No way? _

_Totally! Oohhhh, Jesus, Rachel Berry is the best kisser ever! _

"I should probably make your hickey bigger." Rachel mumbled breathlessly before she quickly ducked her head to pale flesh.

"Great I- I- dea." Quinn whimpered as Rachel nibbled on her earlobe before sucking on her neck.

_I've said it before and I'll say it again, we are going to hell. _

_Quinn seems perfectly fine with this plan. _

_This is the flimsiest excuse we've ever come up with to make out with someone. And that's saying something. _

_Quinn Fabray is sitting on her lap. I honestly don't give a horse's ass about the excuse! _

_Okay…you're allowed to enjoy it—_

_Like you're not. _

_You're allowed to enjoy it, but come tomorrow the plan is in effect. _

_Yes, the plan the plan the plan, I know allll about the stupid plan, I came up with it! _

_Do you think we can come up with an excuse to get her to run her hands up our legs again? _

_See, I knew you were enjoying yourself! _

_Does a tiny part of you want to start a fight with her just so things can get even _more _passionate? _

_Yes, but I honestly don't think my body could handle seeing Quinn angry; as it is, my body is ready to combust. _

_Just got a great idea!_

_God, I love when she rakes her fingers through our hair!_

_Pay attention! _

_What? I'm a little busy here! _

_New Years Eve, we should totally make plans with Jen and her new boyfriend! _

_Brilliant! That way we can act couple-ly!_

_I'm the smartest! _

_Absolutely! _

_Um…Rachel? _

_Hmmmm, God that feels amazing! What the hell do you want?_

_Is…um…do you feel like…um…_

_What?_

_Are you aware that you're about one more hip-rock away from orgasm? _

_Shit!_

Rachel ripped her lips away from Quinn's and stood up so suddenly that the blonde fell right on her ass on the bathroom floor. Both girls were gasping for air and Rachel dragged her shaking hand through her hair to try and calm herself.

Quinn was blinking so rapidly as she tried to keep it together, she wasn't even fully aware of what just occurred. One minute, Rachel's body was trembling uncontrollably and the next, she was flat on her ass.

"Quinn, God! Are you okay?" Rachel finally got out once she was sure that the throbbing between her legs had bated slightly. The blonde's dark hazel eyes stared back up at her as though she couldn't really see the diva.

"Um…" Quinn shook her head as she scrubbed her face. "Yeaaaah." She finally said and winced as she peeled herself off the bathroom floor. "Are you okay?" Rachel's eyes were damn near black and Quinn had never seen her pupils so blown.

"Hmmmhmm." Rachel replied as she scurried away from the blonde, not making eye contact, as she tried her best to fix her wild hair in the mirror.

_I can't believe that almost happened! _

_Almost? It's _still _ready to happen! _

_No more wine tonight! _

_No more kissing either! _

_How humiliating! _

_We almost had an orgasm while Quinn Fabray straddled us! _

_Please don't say orgasm, Quinn Fabray, and straddled all in one sentence, I'm ready to crumble into a Rachel puddle! _

"Perhaps we should go join our party. It's one thing to be slightly scandalous and quite another to be indecent…not to mention rude." Rachel laughed as she tried to act as natural as possible, still not meeting the blonde's eye. Her voice was husky and trembling and if she had to be in that bathroom for one more minute, alone, with Quinn, when the blonde smelled so irresistible, she knew for sure all her resolve would break away.

"That's true." Quinn admitted. She bit her lip nervously as she fixed her appearance. It hadn't occurred to the blonde before that moment what would happen once they left the bathroom. She was almost positive that everyone would think the worst. She blushed at the thought. And then silently moaned at the thought of what everyone would consider "the worst."

"Quinn?" The blonde jumped slightly, too caught up in her wonderful visions, and looked at the concerned diva. "Are you ready?" But Rachel didn't wait for an answer. The look on Quinn's face almost unraveled her. So she just ripped the door open and strode out into the crowded apartment.

"Sorry, Quinn was feeling ill. Vomiting her heart out, bless her." Rachel announced to the room before she headed over to the wine, not caring at all that she had just promised herself not to drink any more.

The blonde gawked at diva and covered her blushing face as she rolled her eyes. "Thanks a lot Rach." Quinn mumbled as a few party guests asked her if she was okay. Was she okay? No. She was so turned on that she was hoping for a moment to duck into the bedroom to change her underwear. Because, and she couldn't be completely sure, but Quinn was almost positive that Rachel nearly had an orgasm, if the way the diva's body had shook as her moans and whimpers fell quickly and quietly from her lips was any indication.

And right there and then, while Rachel tossed back a glass of wine and fake laughed with her guests as she tried to swallow down her intense arousal, Quinn made a plan of her own. It wasn't as complicated at Rachel's. No, it was quite simple: Make Rachel Berry Come. She would throw a dinner party every night. She'd have Rachel's friends over all the time. Quinn didn't care what she'd have to do. But she'd find ways to repeat their bathroom performance. As often as possible.

X

Quinn jerked awake suddenly and blinked several times before she opened her eyes; unsure of what had woken her. She turned slightly and looked over her shoulder and came face to face with a snoring Rachel. The diva's arms were tightly around Quinn's waist and her body was completely on the blonde's side of the bed. Nothing new there.

Beside her, her cell phone lit up and Quinn understood as it shook and rattled on the bedside dresser. "What the-" It was a little after one in the morning. Quinn grabbed her cell and stared down at the caller I.D., completely baffled as to why Matt was calling her. "Hello?" Quinn asked softly, not wanting to wake Rachel.

"_Quinn? We did it! We freaking _did_ it! Both of us. Or, I should say, _all _of us! We did it! I can't believe it! Why weren't you picking up; I called, like, a million times? It doesn't matter, we're all going crazy right now! You both have to come down to the pub to celebrate! Can you believe it? I'm going nuts! _Sundance! _Freaking _Sundance, _Quinn! Put Rachel on! Get your butts down here! We gotta celebrate! You'll never guess what they're saying about Rachel! _Sundance, _Quinn! _Sundance!"

A pale palm covered Quinn's face as she swore silently. Matt was still gabbing in her ear with the sounds of cheering and yelling in the background, but the blonde didn't hear a thing. "We'll be right there." She eventually said just to get him off the phone. She hung up and took a deep breath before she placed her cell back on the bedside table and turned in Rachel's arms.

"Baby?" Quinn whispered as her eyes welled with tears. "Rach?" She tried again with a breathy chuckle. Rachel groaned softly in protest but Quinn ignored the diva as she slipped her leg in between Rachel's and wrapped her arm around the girl's slim waist. "Wake up, superstar." Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear before kissing the lobe, unable to stop herself.

Slowly, Rachel's eyes fluttered opened only to see Quinn's smiling back at her as tears streamed down her pale cheeks. "Quinn?" Rachel asked in confusion. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Quinn giggled and leaned forward to press her lips to Rachel's several times. The diva was _positive _she was still dreaming. "We did it." Was all the blonde said as she laughed some more against Rachel's lips before she pecked them a few times. "We did it!" Quinn suddenly cheered loudly before scooping up Rachel in her arms until they were both sitting. She buried her face into a surprised Rachel's neck as she continued to laugh and cry.

Rachel wasn't sure what Quinn was talking about, so she just rubbing soothing circles on the blonde's back. "We have to get ready!" Quinn finally gasped before pulling away and hopping out of bed. The tired diva watched at Quinn yanked clothes from the closet racks and tossed them onto the bed. "Get dressed!" Quinn giggled before moving towards her dresser. She tugged her t-shirt over her head before she dropped her shorts. Rachel was _positive _she was still dreaming.

"Berry! Get your ass in gear!" Quinn scolded with a smile as she dragged her white linen Capris up quickly.

"Quinn…" Rachel finally mumbled, her eyes busy racing over the blonde's naked back. "What the Helen of Troy are you talking about?" If she wasn't completely positive before, she was now; she was _definitely _dreaming. How else could you explain Quinn Fabray, naked from the waist up, flinging herself on top of Rachel if it wasn't a dream?

"Guess what you did." Quinn whispered as she laughed and hovered over Rachel's body. The diva gulped as she stared up at playful eyes, her body on fire with Quinn's position, closeness, and naked chest.

"Got really lucky?" Rachel asked in a breathy whisper, her tone hinting at hopeful.

"You most certainly did, Berry. You got _really _freaking lucky. Because, you are not only in _one _movie that got into _Sundance_, but _two!" _Rachel scoffed as her eyes slammed shut.

"God damn it!" Rachel cursed as her head flopped back down on her pillow. Quinn's eyebrows knitted.

"I thought you'd be a little happier." The blonde muttered with an amused smile, _really _liking the idea of being half-naked on top of Rachel. But the diva didn't seem at all pleased in that moment. Instead, she grumbled quietly.

"Now I just _know _I'm dreaming." Rachel breathed out. Quinn laughed all the way to the bar, at war with no one, and just happy to be with Rachel.


	12. Chapter 12 27 Dresses

Chapter Twelve: 27 Dresses

Rachel's head was hung as her long legs hurriedly fell in to step with the pale hand guiding her own. She was only slightly aware of Quinn's words, but mostly just fought to keep her eyes open. "Show me everything you have in bright colors." The husky voice demanded as she cut through the store like a shark with Rachel trailing closely behind her. "I'll need at least six dresses, all short, different styles, but they must have the wherewithal to withstand Utah's winter, tailored 32-26-32.

"Leggings. High-heeled, lace-up boots size six. Long, soft sweaters. I want to do something different for Ms. Berry and try adding military-style jackets to mix in with the more conservative pieces and have sleek lines that are accessorized with only a few items. Silk scarves. Silk, not polyester or any repulsive blend you have to offer me. Silk. And they should be colorful. No blacks, no whites, no grays, no earth tones. I want bright pinks, yellows, blues, oranges…you get the picture. If you think it will stand out against a snowy backdrop, show me." Quinn halted and lightly tugged on the hand in her own until Rachel's body was against hers. She felt the diva's cheek rest on her back as her hazel eyes scanned the large store as the sales assistants took notes.

"I want to see all of those t-shirts you have on this rack here and that one over there paired with comfortable yet complimentary pants. Casual yet sophisticated. I'll need at least seven warm jackets and coats. I'm looking for everything from a-night-out-at-the-opera to a-ski-bunny-on-the-slopes. And I'll need to see all of that in the next five minutes along with the strongest cup of coffee you can find with no sugar and absolutely no cream. None."

Quinn collapsed into the dark suede chair wearily to show that she was finished talking and that all the sales associates were now free to do her biding. A second later, Rachel dropped down on the blonde's lap and tucked her head against Quinn's shoulder. "We're almost done." Quinn said soothingly as she rubbed Rachel's back and watched the store scramble into action.

They had only been shopping for a little under an hour, but Rachel's exhaustion had more to do with her chaotic schedule than anything else. It was the first of February and _Sundance _was quickly approaching. Both girls understood the importance of showing up at the film festival looking perfect, however, this was their very first opportunity to shop for the event.

Rachel had started her fourth semester of Julliard in January and was attending each class—Quinn no longer had the time to go to Rachel's classes for the diva—amid her twelve hour rehearsals for Ainsley and Charlene's musical, _Wink and a Nod_. When she wasn't running lines, practicing dance numbers, or running through songs, she was writing papers and studying for her classes.

Quinn started NYU in January. She was taking a full course load, managing her dog walking business, and going to every one of Rachel's rehearsals she could. When Quinn wasn't doing the above, she was having lunches with Ainsley and Charlene's contacts so that she could network and learn more about the business. She knew she didn't need any formal education to be an entertainment representative, but Quinn wanted a degree in entertainment business so she could study the inter-workings of the industry thoroughly. It was very important to the blonde that she be _the_ _best_ and had all her bases covered so that she could protect Rachel…and Jesse…sort of.

On average, the girls got to see one another alone maybe an hour or two a day and mostly that was when they got up and when they were passed out in bed. The weekends were dedicated to more rehearsals, more studying, more dog walking, and more networking. Their stress was an everyday thing. There was always more to do. The only light at the end of the tunnel was _Sundance _and they knew that would be ten days of working their asses off. They would go to every viewing they could, every brunch, party, panel, and meet and greet.

It was a great honor to get into the legendary film festival. Over 9,000 films are entered and only around 200 make the competition round. Out of 200 films, most of them are documentaries and shorts. For Matt's film _A Date of Month _to get accepted was a very big deal. For it to be in the competition round was _huge_.

But getting into _Sundance _is half the battle. Many great films have had the honor only to never been seen or heard of again. The next step, the _important_ step, was to find someone who would want to take their films and buy them for distribution. You find a backer, a studio, you could possibly see your film on the big screen _and _get a nice fat check to go along with it.

Suffice it to say, everyone had their work cut out for them. Matt and his friends were calling Quinn and Rachel regularly for their opinions and thoughts on the upcoming festival. While Matt's film hadn't won any awards, Chris' film _Which of You, I Love _snagged best drama in a full length, and Rachel Berry's name was popping up quite a lot on _Sundance'_s message boards because of it. Also because the diva appeared in two _Sundance-_entered films; the unknown actress was sudden the talk of Park City.

"We still have to find clothes for you." Rachel yawned against Quinn's chest. She was bone-tired, but it helped being close to Quinn. She loved moments when they could cuddle up like that. They were in public, so it was okay—an unspoken agreement. They hadn't really argued since before their engagement party; they were just too busy.

New years was spent just like Rachel wanted it to be: she, Quinn, Jen, and Jen's boyfriend all hung out at the apartment. When the ball dropped, both couples shared kisses and snuggled close. Then Mercedes visited and Quinn and Rachel got to act like the perfect couple again. School started not long after and Quinn and Rachel were too busy to foreplay-fight. It was hard not seeing one another, but at least when they did, their time wasn't wasted with stupid arguments.

"I'll get some stuff." Quinn said.

"But I want you to look all pretty too." The diva got out through another yawn.

"Don't worry about that." Quinn answered distractedly. "How long has it been?"

"Four minutes and twenty-two seconds."

"Then where the hell is your damn coffee?" Quinn grunted as she shifted her position so that she could check her watch.

"Here you are, Ms. Berry." A timid girl said as she handed over Rachel's coffee to the sleepy brunette.

"Thank you." Rachel smiled as her nose hovered over the mug before she took a tentative sip.

"Can you _please_ find out how much longer we need to sit here and wait? Ms. Berry needs to get back to rehearsals and we don't have enough time in our schedule to come back before we leave for Utah." The woman nodded emphatically before she scampered away.

"Thank you!" Rachel repeated to retreating girl's back before she slapped Quinn's thigh.

"Be nice."

"Rachel, if you're not mean to these people they won't understand what you're talking about." Quinn answered calmly. Rachel chuckled as she rested her head back down on the blonde's shoulder.

"Why do you keep referring to me as 'Ms. Berry'? I sound old."

"It's like Rumpelstiltskin, Rach." Quinn breathed out against the diva's neck, her nose barely skimming Rachel's skin. "Saying your name makes you human, and if your human than they can relate, and if they relate then they don't fear you." Rachel's laughter echoed around the store and Quinn smiled at the sound.

"You're ridiculous."

"You're naive."

"You won't let me be mean to my chorus." Rachel reminded the blonde as she turned to peer up at Quinn through her bangs.

Quinn huffed and situated Rachel's hips over so that she was sitting on the thigh that wasn't fast asleep. "You being a diva to your cast and crew is not productive." Quinn stated evenly. "You have a problem, you tell me, and I tell Ainsley. Storming off in the middle of a song because Jake stepped on your cues yet again isn't going to help unless you want to bolster a negative reputation."

Rachel hid her smile behind her coffee mug and sighed contently—she loved that Quinn stuck up for her—as half a dozen sales assistants hustled over to them with racks of clothes in toe. "Now wipe that smile off your face and pretend to be displeased or else they will think you're nice and take their damn time." Quinn whispered quickly before she frowned. "What the hell took you so long?" She barked out to the cowering women surrounding them. She couldn't help that high school Quinn came out every once and a while—especially where Rachel was concerned; she was a tad protective.

The women proceeded to show everything Quinn had asked for. The blonde merely nodded or shook her head at each offered item. Another hour went by until Quinn was pleased with Rachel's _Sundance _wardrobe.

"Now it's your turn!" Rachel clapped. Quinn rolled her eyes and told the lead sales assistant exactly what she wanted for her own attire. The women were off again in search of the blonde's request as Rachel became excited and alert now that it was Quinn's turn. "Please explain to me why all the clothes you picked out are drab in comparison to mine." Rachel pouted, not at all liking the idea of Quinn hiding behind gray baby doll dresses or forest green leggings.

"Because, Rach, we went attention on _you _not me."

"That's absurd." Rachel huffed as she crossed her arms.

"You're the solo act I'm just swaying in the background; just like in high school." Quinn answered playfully as she hugged her arms around Rachel's waist tighter. She lived for moments like those, where she and Rachel could act like a real couple. _Sundance _would be a lot of work, but at least everyone they were traveling with thought they were _really _together. It would make for ten days of heaven.

"_Hmpf." _Quinn smiled at Rachel's petulance as the sales women returned with Quinn's choices. "I get veto rights." The diva whispered before turning her attention to the racks of clothes. "Ms. Fabray _assumes_ she's the one in charge, but from now on concerning her wardrobe, _I_ get final say. So please dispose of any colors that are not white, yellow, green, or pink. Thank you." Rachel singsonged with a smile. The diva leaned back against Quinn's chest as more scrambling took place. "It's so fun bossing everyone around!" Rachel whispered to Quinn.

"You sound surprised." Quinn said as she placed her chin on the diva's shoulder.

"I just never thought I'd get to do it so early on in my career."

"You've been bossing people around for as long as I've known you." Quinn grumbled with a roll of her eyes.

Rachel scoffed. "You did it for sport, _I _merely taught and directed."

"Hmmm, your memories and mine are quite different." The blonde said and Rachel ignored the comment as she nodded her approval over the new attire for Quinn. "Rach, I'm _not_ wearing a pantsuit." The blonde bit out.

"But you'll look so professional!" Rachel gushed, turning slightly to look up at Quinn.

"Yeah, a professional bitch. No." Quinn growled, her expression serious. Rachel blinked up at the blonde, her brown eyes soft as she sighed.

"I've missed you." Rachel whispered for Quinn's ears only before she got off the blonde's lap to inspect Quinn's new dresses. For the rest of the day, Quinn complained to Rachel her comment was the reason it took them another hour inside the store; the blonde was positive the smile Rachel's words had caused made the staff think Quinn was nice.

When the pair got back to their apartment, they immediately began placing their new purchases in the suitcases that were stewed around the floor of their bedroom. They were set to leave in two days and in that time they had much to do.

Both needed to hand in papers and take tests for their respective schools. Because NYU and Julliard were both very familiar with their over-achieving students, taking time off for _Sundance _was not a big deal, especially since they were representing their universities. Their biggest problem—well…not really a problem—was the musical, _Wink and a Nod_.

Ainsley and Charlene were very excited for Rachel, however, the diva was worried the couple would think she wasn't taking her role seriously. Furthermore, Rachel was concerned that when she got back from the festival, she'd be behind or rusty. She was determined to put in extra hours in the meantime and to inform Ainsley and/or Charlene whenever she was around them that she was _not _about to take off for California to "do something idiotic and completely frivolous like join Hollywood's pretentious elitists when the stage is where I belong." Ainsley and Charlene were not worried.

Quinn was a mess about her business. While she assured Lydia and Jeremy she had complete faith in them, the blonde gave Mrs. Norbert, Rachel and Quinn's neighbor, her cell phone number and the keys to their apartment just in case. She also went a step further and took out an extensive insurance policy on the business on the off chance a dog was misplaced or injured. That one little act made the business legitimate and after much prodding from a certain diva, Quinn decided it was time to start advertizing. She was hoping one day to hire more employees and step away from active dog walking only to manage it. It would be much more lucrative and would allow her time to focus solely on her fledgling career as an agent/manager/publicist. Or maybe it would just allow her more time with Rachel.

"Almost ready to go?" Quinn asked as she zipped up a stuffed suitcase. Rachel was expected back at the theatre soon.

"Hmm?" The diva replied, too caught up in looking at the newest pictures around their bedroom. There were three: Rachel with tears in her eyes as she stared up at Quinn the night of the diva's birthday, the exact moment the blonde had slipped the ring on her finger; Mercedes, Quinn, and Rachel on the living room couch, smiling like dorks, when the girl visited after the New Year; and a _very _annoyed Quinn, standing on NYU's campus with her bag slung over her shoulder and a bagged lunch the diva had prepared, awaiting Rachel to _finally _finish snapping away so she could go attend her first class as a official college student.

Instead of answering Quinn question, Rachel grabbed the picture of Quinn, Mercedes, and herself and showed it to the blonde. "Have you spoken to Mercedes lately?"

Quinn shrugged as she swept her long hair off her shoulder. "Just by text, we're both so busy."

"I still can't believe how…_excited _she was about us." Rachel said with a laugh. "We took her to the top of every notorious building in the city, every important landmark, and the backstage of the _Gershwin _and all she talked about was the wedding." 

Quinn's smile was mischievous as she glanced up at Rachel. "Did I tell you I finally just caved in and gave her Charlene's number so they could talk to one another about the wedding?" Rachel covered her face with her hand as she laughed.

"Good. They both need someone to gush to. I think they're bored with us." Every time Charlene called about a decision concerning the wedding, both girls always left it up to the older woman; neither wanted to actively participate in the spectacle it was turning out to be considering it was somewhat fake. Charlene had been right; the Berry men had a _very _long list of people they wanted there. _Very long_. The current count was one hundred and fifty guests. And climbing.

"Okay, we need to head over to the theatre." Quinn said as she rose from the floor. As Rachel replaced the picture back down on the blonde's dresser her eyes lingered on the frame from her birthday. Sometimes, when Quinn was at school or work, Rachel would just hold the frame in her hands and stare at the picture of them for hours. As did Quinn.

Both women were in silent agreement that it was better that the truth was out. However, they longed for the days when they could kiss the other as they sat on their living room couch and watch TV. Or tell the other that they looked gorgeous and mean it, even though it was six in the morning. Or just say I love you.

Rachel really wanted to believe that Quinn didn't mind being tied to her for the rest of their lives, but she had to be sure. With each day that passed, the wedding was getting closer. Rachel had five months to make sure Quinn was serious about it, understood what she was agreeing to; a life without love. Rachel vowed to herself that she'd do everything in her power to make Quinn happy as long as they were together. But what if Quinn's happiness was someone else? Rachel had to be sure. She hated it, but she had to know.

"Rachel Berry, are you doing some deep thinking over there?" Quinn asked with a smile from the doorway.

"Just thinking about _Sundance_." Rachel replied as she scooted passed the blonde towards the front door. Quinn followed closely behind and she gathered her things and slipped on her sunglasses.

"You think about surviving another twelve hour day and let _me _worry about _Sundance._"

X

"Okay, is everyone listening?" Quinn asked the large group as she stood in front of the house door. "You only have _one _hour to get settled. Shower, unpack, read, I don't care, but you only have one hour to do it. We will be meeting in this very spot to head over to the festival's opening ceremony and if you miss the shuttle, you're out of luck! Does everyone understand?"

"Yes." Came the drawling reply from the crowd.

"Is everyone _positive _they understand?" Quinn repeated with a quirked brow.

"Yes!" Everyone repeated in exasperation.

"I swear to, God, if anyone is not ready-"

"Rachel, make her stop." Chris complained as he jockeyed all five of his bags from hand to hand.

"Yeah, Quinn, we'll be ready." Matt assured the blonde with a patient smile. Quinn rolled her eyes and frowned down at Rachel who was chuckling at her side.

"You think something is funny, Berry?" Amused brown eyes looked up at Quinn with a smile. The blonde bit back her own grin when she noticed the way Rachel's snow cap kept slipping over the diva's eyes.

"Just unlock the door, bossy." Rachel giggled. Quinn rolled her eyes again before she dropped the diva's hand from her own and took out the keys to the house.

"Please try to remember that this is a friend's house. Minimal trashing would be appreciated." Quinn mumbled as the boys flew through the door with cheers. Ainsley's best friend had loaned out her _very _nice house to the group for the festival. Park City, Utah is one of the wealthiest towns in the United States and one look at the seven bedroom house they were staying in, along with its neighbors' houses, made that quite clear.

If it wasn't for Ainsley, the whole group would never have had the opportunity to make the trip. Considering all fifteen of them were struggling artists and students, they never could've afforded the plane ride over never mind hotel accommodations. But Ainsley and Charlene had racked up _many _frequent flyer miles and had _very_ connected friends. The couple was more than happy to call in a few favors so that Quinn and Rachel could experience _Sundance _right.

Rachel collapsed down onto the king-sized bed in the master bedroom with a beaming smile on her face. "I may never get up." Quinn smiled at her in the vanity mirror as she started putting away their things.

"An hour, Rach. You better not fall asleep." The diva pouted but didn't get up. Instead, she started moving her arms and legs as though she were making a snow angel on the insanely high thread count the sheets provided.

"You're taking all the fun out of this. Stop doing stuff and come over here and relax. We've barely got to hang out at all in the last month." Rachel complained as she sat up on her elbows.

"Believe me," Quinn sighed as she sat on the corner of the bed. "I would like nothing more than to relax, but we all have to be ready to talk our asses off so we can find buyers."

"I'm well aware, Quinn." Rachel said softly as she sat up. "This is important to me as well. But, sweetie, I already have my dream. I want this for Matt and Chris and Jared and Zach and…everyone! This is _their _dream. I will be in full-professional mode for the next ten days every time we show up at a festival event. But, Quinn…we've been so busy lately that I feel as though my head is swimming! I feel like I haven't even slowed down enough to truly let sink in that I'm about to star in a Broadway musical! I feel as though we haven't really talked at all. So can we please just take a breath and enjoy this? It's the only vacation we're going to have for a very long time especially with the wedding coming up."

Quinn expelled a breath as she nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, your hearts in the right place." Rachel said as she got comfortable on the bed.

"Thank you." Quinn whispered before she went back to the vanity to remove her earrings. "I needed to hear that. But that doesn't mean you can take a nap." Quinn said as she looked over her shoulder at Rachel with a smirk.

The diva slapped the bed and pouted. "You're a slave driver, Quinn Fabray!"

"And you're as transparent as this mirror, Rachel Berry. Now get your ass up and shower." Rachel's bottom lip jutted out as she pealed herself off the bed and grabbed her suitcase.

"What should I wear?" The diva huffed. She was exhausted, and the idea of putting on a dress and a smiling face sounded terrible. But it was day one of the film festival and it wasn't just any day. In merely two hours, _Which of You, I Love _would premiere. It would be the first time she'd get to see the whole thing through and, although she was thrilled, the idea of watching the very dramatic film that marked such a dark period in her life seemed draining. She couldn't wait to show Quinn the movie, however, it would just be a reminder of the week they spent apart.

Quinn's shoulders dropped as she turned towards the diva. She could sense Rachel's sadness from across the room. "What's wrong?" She asked softly as she approached the shorter girl. "Why aren't you looking forward to this?" Rachel shrugged.

The blonde was only a few inches away from Rachel as her eyes raced over the tired face. Almost as though she could sense Rachel's dilemma, Quinn smiled tenderly and brushed brown locks behind the diva's ear. "I can't wait to see you on the big screen." Rachel hid her smile as she bit her lip. "I can't wait to see how dark and twisted you get."

Rachel chuckled as she ducked her head. "I get pretty dark and twisted."

"There are going to be a _ton _of people who will want to talk to you about your performance. People will want your autograph and want to know what your next project is. You're going to get to say a million times that you're about to star in a Broadway musical."

Rachel beamed up at Quinn so brightly that the blonde had to laugh. "See…it won't be all bad."

"I suppose you _could _be accurate." Rachel replied modestly as she continued to playoff that she was about to squeal her joy.

"Wear the pink dress." Quinn whispered with a smile. "You take the first shower while I lay out the boys clothes." Rachel threw her head back and laughed.

"Yes, please do. I can only imagine what they'll come up with." Quinn smiled and walked to the door. "Quinn?" Rachel whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Don't leave my side tonight, okay?" Quinn was nearly knocked down on her ass as she felt herself fall in love with Rachel all over again. She swallowed thickly as she nodded.

"Of course."

"I know that our relationship is…" Rachel sighed and collected her bearings. As her eyes met Quinn's Rachel suddenly felt a shift in the air. She was very used to sharing her space with Quinn Fabray, but perhaps it was because they were out of their usual element that made everything seem so dangerous. The bed looked tiny, the prospect of the bathroom being inside the room made the diva's heart race, and knowing that she would spend most of the week in darkened movie theatres next to the blonde made her stomach quiver. "Interesting." Rachel finished slowly as she felt Quinn's eyes bare in to her. The blonde's eyebrow lifted as she waited for Rachel to finish. "But I need you by my side this weekend. To make me stronger."

To Quinn, Rachel appeared so child-like in that moment. She softly bit her lip as she tried to read the diva's mood. It was obvious that Rachel needed reassurance and security; the last month had been trying and Quinn was sure Rachel was nervous about seeing the film for the first time as it premiered to an audience. "Rachel, who's your best friend?" The blonde asked with a smile that was quickly returned along with an eye roll.

"You are." Rachel mumbled as her grin widened and she ducked her head slightly. Quinn's eyes lazily scanned Rachel as she slowly walked towards the diva.

"What do you need from me?" Quinn asked softly. Rachel's eyes flicked up as she sucked in a breath. The blonde's body was so close and Rachel was aware that she was hardly breathing now. "What can I do?" Quinn whispered as she lowered her forehead to Rachel's.

She closed her eyes as she felt Quinn's hands slip into her own. "I'm excited." Rachel whispered, Quinn's thumbs softly running over her skin. "I'm just so exhausted that the idea of being surrounded by people…" Quinn hummed her understanding, her own eyes closed as they stood so near to one another.

"I'll be by your side." Quinn whispered, finding the heart of Rachel's anxiety. The blonde knew that Rachel wanted to trust her, wanted to believe that Quinn would always be there for her, but it was obvious that the diva still worried.

_This is why we aren't saying anything. For moments like these when Rachel needs us and we are just simply _there _for her. To show her that we aren't like we were in high school, that we will _always _be there for her. _

"You can trust me." Quinn whispered as she squeezed Rachel's hands and placed a soft kiss to the diva's forehead. Rachel blew out a breath as she felt tears sting behind her eyelids. It was exactly what she needed to hear yet, the hardest thing at the same time.

"Thank you."

X

The group of fifteen took two shuttles over to the main event where _Which of You, I Love _would premiere. In one shuttle were Matt and the crew members. In the other shuttle was Rachel and her cast mates who had made the trip—and of course Quinn.

As they got closer, the nerves and excitement level was starting to mount so feverishly high, that Quinn actually had to clamp her hand down on Rachel's bouncing knee. "Breathe, you'll be fine." Rachel nodded and wet her lips as the shuttle slowed.

The massive tent where the movie would premiere was bustling with activity on the outside. It appeared as though hundreds of people were milling about, talking, laughing, handing over their tickets to get inside, or merely just photographing those around them. The shuttle was silent as its occupants took in the scene. "Dear, God, Quinn…there's a red carpet." _Which of You, I Love _was one of three films premiering and Rachel, Quinn, and the diva's costars watched as actors from the other films walked down the red carpet, posed for pictures and questions, and even signed autographs.

Quinn's eyes quickly darted around and took in the awestruck faces. She was almost positive that everyone in the second shuttle was having the same reactions. "Right." Quinn said to herself as she got her head in the game. "Change of plans." Quinn told the seven people around her. "Everyone stay put until I get back, understand?" Seven heads nodded dumbly back as they stared at the flashing lights in front of the tent. "Don't move, I'll be right back, okay?" Rachel's large eyes peered up at Quinn in wonder before she slowly nodded. The blonde smirked at Rachel's speechlessness before she slipped from her seat and leaned down to the driver.

"Do me a favor and loop around once before parking?" The guy agreed and Quinn hopped out of the shuttle and ran towards the other as fast as her red heels could carry her. Knocking once on the second shuttle's door, Quinn leapt up the steps and saw the amazed expressions from the crew of the two films. "Okay guys, this is how it's going to go…" Quinn said, finally getting everyone's attention.

No one said anything, but Matt and Chris exchanged looks and soft smiles, both _enormously_ relieved that Quinn Fabray was there to direct them.

Ten minutes later, Quinn watched as the actors and crew of _A Date of Month _confidently strutted down the red carpet. Matt Rutherford was definitely the shyest of all, just merely nodding his head and smiling slightly as he made his way to the tent. Zach, Rachel's love interest in _A Date a Month_, was the biggest ham; happily chatting away to interviewers and smiling for pictures.

"Okay, Chris; you're up." Quinn said to the man of the hour. Chris ran a shaking hand through his floppy brown hair as he blew out a breath.

"I look all right?" He asked the blonde nervously as he fixed his suit jacket over his t-shirt.

"Very handsome." Rachel assured and Quinn nodded her agreement.

"Okay." He blew out a breath and descended the shuttle's steps behind the rest of the crew for _Which of You, I Love_. He was almost immediately swaggering.

"You ready, superstar?" Quinn asked just behind Rachel. The diva rolled her neck and did a quick series of tongue twisters before she jumped up and down a few times trying to dispel her nervous energy. The action got Quinn to trade a quick smile with the shuttle driver.

"I'm ready." Rachel professed as she swished her long hair over her shoulder.

"Let me go first." Quinn said as she slipped by Rachel and descended the shuttle's steps. Looking over her shoulder, Quinn assessed the progress of the rest of her group and noted that it would be the perfect time for Rachel to make an appearance. She directed her attention back towards the diva and smiled when she saw Rachel's face; she was ready.

"Let's go." Quinn grinned as she offered Rachel her hand and helped the diva down the steps. Although Rachel was practically attached to Quinn's side, the look on the diva's face was one of pure confidence as she carefully made her way down the red carpet. As soon as everyone's eyes were on Rachel, a soft, gracious smile appeared.

"You're doing great." Quinn said between a smile, barely moving her lips as flashes went off all around them. "And you look absolutely gorgeous." Rachel's long, slightly curled hair was brushed over the side of her shoulder to really show off the bare skin the bubble-gum pink strapless dress afforded. It hugged her hips and showed off her long, tanned legs as she stood perched on high black heels.

Rachel's eyes flicked up towards the blonde as she squeezed Quinn's hand. "Thank you." She answered, not only being polite but for loving Quinn's timing; she needed the reassurance in that moment.

Quinn smiled broadly the first time someone called out Rachel's name and was pleased to see that Rachel didn't react as though she was surprised, but simply interested. The pair stopped at the first reporter and Rachel smiled genially.

"Ms. Berry, you're the star of _Which of You, I Love _and _A Date a Month_. How do you feel about the recognition for both films?" Quinn swallowed with great difficulty as the first test came. But once the blonde saw Rachel's slow, easy smile, her worry vanished.

"I'm just so pleased to be a part of these remarkable films. The whole cast and crew became my family and they deserve the success." _Holy shit, that was good._ Quinn thought as she nodded, careful to keep her express neutral as she held Rachel's hand tightly.

"How did you get involved in the productions?" The reporter asked, his cameraman hovering just over his shoulder and aimed at the girls.

"Matt Rutherford and I went to high school together briefly and we reconnected in New York City. I heard about the project, read the script, and was blown away by his talent. Not long after, I auditioned for the role and luckily go the part. And I met Christopher through Matt." Quinn wasn't even aware that she was nodding slowly at every word Rachel was saying; almost as though she was grading the diva's performance. Her hazel eyes were trained on Rachel's face as she took in each polite and humble expression the diva offered her interviewer.

"And who is this stunning woman at your side?" Rachel's bright eyes looked up at Quinn as she smiled.

"My fiancée." Rachel answered with pride as she squeezed Quinn's hand. "Quinn Fabray." Quinn smiled politely back at the man and knew it was time to move on. No personal questions.

"Thank you very much for your time." Quinn said before she started walking. Rachel offered the man a broad smile of thanks before being lead away. They didn't get far.

There were more questions from more reporters and Rachel was the perfect interviewee. She was intelligent, playful, and genuine in all her responses. Some questions were tough: "How did you find the darkness to play such a deeply layered role as Shannon?" Some questions were easy: "Have you always wanted to be an actress?" And some questions were _way_ too easy: "Who's your biggest inspiration?" But Rachel fired off answers as though she had been doing it forever. And she practically had—in front of her bedroom mirror counts.

"Shannon was such an interesting role to play. I found it very easy to get in to her head once Chris and I came up with a back-story. If you allow your mind to empathize with all the pain she had gone through, you find a place that once tapped, is somewhat difficult to close, but offers a world of inspiration."

"I've wanted to perform since the womb." Rachel said as she threw back her head and laughed good-naturedly. "I was singing and dancing as soon as I could and once I saw _Funny Girl, _it was all that much clearer."

But the answer that surprised Quinn the most, was her inspiration. The blonde almost said Barbra Streisand _for _Rachel. Her eyes widened comically when the diva answered easily, "My fiancée." They were mere feet from the entrance of the tent. And although it felt like they had been answering questions and posing for pictures for hours, it had only been seven minutes.

"And is this beautiful woman on your arm your fiancée?" Rachel's musical laughter brought Quinn back from her shock.

"No, this is my stand-in fiancée. My real one is busy tonight." Rachel continued to laugh as she bumped the interviewers shoulder playfully. The man looked pleased by the diva's joke. "This is Quinn, Quinn, meet Raymond." Rachel smiled up at the blonde.

"How do you do, Raymond?" Quinn smiled politely.

"Nice to meet you as well, Quinn. How long have you two been together?"

"Nearly two years." Rachel gushed.

"And when's the big day?" Quinn just smiled down at Rachel, more than happy to watch the bubbly girl enjoy her time. Her hazel eyes watched each smile, every time Rachel bit her lip or licked them; it was intoxicating. She couldn't remove her eyes off her. Quinn had never seen Rachel look more stunning than in that moment. She couldn't even find it in herself to mind that she was the topic of conversation.

"Well I wish you both the best of luck and have fun this week." The reporter said with a smile. Rachel thanked him before turning towards the tent, this time, leading Quinn.

They were in their seats before Quinn even knew what happened; still shocked by Rachel's last answer. Their group took up the first few seats of two different rows and Matt and Chris were directly in front of them and turned when they sat. "How fucking brilliant was that!" Chris whispered loudly to the girls.

"I can't believe that just happened." Matt joined in, his boyish smile larger than either girl has ever seen. Rachel gushed back and forth with the cast and crew while Quinn sat silently beside her. Rachel's red carpet debut had been flawless. The transformation the diva had made was so seamless and professional that Quinn felt an overwhelming sense of pride and love that she wasn't sure what to do with. And more than that, she was still reeling over Rachel's response. Had it been staged? Had Rachel only answered that way to look good in front of the camera? Or was that the real Rachel Berry coming out; momentarily being truthful with her feelings?

"You're awfully quiet. Is everything okay?" Rachel asked with a smile, but her eyes held concern.

"You were incredible." Quinn breathed out. Rachel's smile flickered from the impact of Quinn's words; her tone had been filled with so much wonder.

"Thank you. I've been practicing for my first red carpet since five." Rachel answered with a very seriously which got Quinn to laugh.

"I have no doubt." The girls sat in silence as the theatre around them filled up and their group chatted away; still excited over their first red carpet experience and nervous for the coming premiere. "Why'd you say me?" Quinn finally asked. She looked down as she noticed the weight in her hand and was surprised to see that she was still holding Rachel's hand in her own.

At the question, Rachel looked up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You said I was your inspiration." Quinn clarified as her eyes searched Rachel's.

"I understood what you were referring to, I'm just not sure why you're asking. Why wouldn't I say you?"

Quinn's eyebrows shot up at the honest answer. "I…wasn't aware that I was your inspiration." Rachel giggled as she shook her head, leaning up against Quinn to get cozy as the lights flickered in the tent.

"Quinn, you've been my inspiration since that night you stepped foot in New York with me. How did you not know that? Where would I be without you?" Rachel left Quinn gawking as she turned forward just in time for the lights to dim. They had to sit through a brief introduction before _Which of You, I Love _would start.

"Quinn, go up there for me!" Chris suddenly whispered from the seat in front of the blonde's as the head of the film festival began his opening remarks. The boy looked positively petrified and it was enough to shake the blonde out of her stupor.

"Chris, you wrote the best dramatic film in _Sundance_. You're a brilliant director. And furthermore, you're very charismatic. So go get your ass up there and introduce your movie like a big boy and I'll buy you a drink later." Rachel watched as Chris' face became resolved and confident. He nodded firmly and stood with conviction as soon as his name was called.

The diva's eyes were on Quinn as the blonde watched Chris' progress towards the stage as the room applauded around him. Rachel could tell that Quinn was willing Chris to say all the right words as he stood on stage; Quinn had wrote his speech and was actually moving her lips along with Chris' every word.

It was kind of amazing how great Quinn was at all of it. She just kind of _knew _how to present each and every one of them in a way that made sense. The blonde also knew how to motivate and which inspirational speech to make or when to push with a tough-love approach. She read people easily and knew the world of entertainment as though she had been in it all her life—or at least preparing for it all her life like Rachel had done.

Even her appearance was perfection—which wasn't surprising to Rachel, but more so how understated it was yet, still flawless. While the diva's hair was free-flowing, Quinn had her curled hair pinned at the nap of her neck. Her dress was white—Rachel's pick—and although she looked gorgeous, she didn't stand out as much next to Rachel—the blonde's intention.

The sound of applause snapped Rachel out of her musings over Quinn. Rachel was in awe of her, and every day that became more apparent. "You nervous?"

"Hmm?" Rachel asked as she looked up at Quinn. The blonde smiled playfully.

"I asked if you were nervous. Big audience, bout to premiere your movie?" Quinn asked with a chuckle.

"Oh!" Rachel cleared her throat and shook her head. "It's the same as being on stage, I suppose. More nervous-excited than nervous-scared. I'm curious as to what you'll think of my character, however." Rachel whispered as she snuggled closer to Quinn so that they could still talk as the movie started.

"Are you kidding? Rachel Berry using Tina Cohen-Chang, Santana Lopez, and Lauren Zizes as inspiration; I can't _wait_. You really should be in my head right now, the mental images are hilarious." Rachel hid her laugh against the blonde's shoulder as the establishing shot of an office building appeared on screen. Fifteen minutes in, Rachel made her film debut.

"Woah." Quinn breathed out in a rush of air. Rachel _certainly _looked different. She was dressed almost exactly as Quinn remembered Tina dressing in high school. Only…_darker_, if it were possible. She sat on the couch in the psychologist's office, checking her black-painted fingernails and appearing completely at ease.

"_Could we, like, hurrying this up? I have so many places I'd rather be." _Quinn swiveled her head to look down at the blushing diva, her eyebrow arched and a look of disbelief on her face.

"Okay, _Santana_." Quinn whispered to Rachel; she had sounded _exactly _like the Latina. Rachel giggled again and ducked further into Quinn.

"This is actually kind of hard to watch." Rachel whispered back.

"_Could _you be wearing more eyeliner?"

"Oh be quiet, I was in character." Rachel said against Quinn's ear. Over an hour later and Quinn was completely transfixed with Rachel's performance. That wasn't _her _Rachel up on the screen at all. She was moody, bitter, angry, and completely off her rocker—that's where Zizes came in!

In the film, Rachel played the role of Shannon, a deeply troubled girl with multiple personalities; the Goth chick was Rachel's. The other two personalities were played by a young, innocent girl—Chris' sister—and a sex-obsessed older woman. You technically didn't find out until the end of the film that all three characters were the same person—Spoiler alert!—and Chris did a fantastic job hiding the fact. The psychologist was in love with Shannon, Rachel's character, but the Goth girl was far too gone in her head to be able to have a normal relationship. It didn't stop Shannon from being overtly sexual or downright demanding of the psychologist's affections.

"_Come on, Doc, can't you just stick it in me and we'll call the session done for the day?" _On screen, Rachel was parting her thighs and showing a hint of her panties to the doctor and the audience.

"Ohhh my, God, wow." Quinn swallowed as she covered her red-hot face with her hands, her eyes riveted to the screen.

"I get a tad vulgar here." Rachel warned as she covered her own eyes by snuggling into Quinn's chest.

"_I can tell you're hard from here; wanting me, wanting to taste me, to fuck me. I'm ready for you. Soooo wet." _

Quinn blew out a breath of astonishment as her face flamed hotter—torn between being embarrassed _for _Rachel, jealous that she never got to hear those words, and extremely turned on. But luckily the scene ended soon after and the audience let out a collective breath; Rachel had been _really _sexy and the tension on screen was intense—but it had been all Rachel. The psychologist wasn't even shown in the scene.

The audience clapped loudly when the credits rolled—Quinn, perhaps the loudest— and the cast and crew stood for their recognition. But they still had two other films to sit through before the Q&A and they could all finally sleep. In the meantime, Rachel snuggled up to Quinn and just enjoyed herself.

The tough part was over, Rachel was no longer anxious, and by the look on Quinn's face, the blonde had been impressed. "Rachel…that was…just…incredible." Quinn gushed as the director for the next film spoke in front of the room. "You were certainly dark and twisted. I barely recognized you up there and it nothing to do with the makeup."

Rachel nodded slowly, thinking about how easy the performance was to slip in to considering her mood at the time; missing Quinn and finding out the truth made Shannon the perfect outlet.

The diva directed her attention to the front of the room, once again leaving Quinn just to stare. It was obvious to the blonde that whatever she had said upset Rachel in some way. Instead of questioning her about it, she pulled the diva closer and leaned down to place a kiss on Rachel's forehead. "You're so amazing." Quinn placed her chin on top of Rachel's head throughout the whole movie, silently showing her support. But the silence didn't last long.

"This movie is boring me."

"I'm half asleep."

"I'm almost positive I'm _fully _asleep."

"Do you know what this movie needs?"

"You."

"Yes! I would have been so much better than that blonde-bimbo!"

"I'm pretty sure I should be slightly offended."

"Oh please, you are one of the smartest people I know. Ugh, why does she even fall for that guy's slimy lines?"

"Instead of agreeing to go out with him, I think I would have said, 'ew, you're gross and you're hair is ridiculous. Maybe you should get a job and I'll consider going out with you if you pay me.'"

"Or how about, 'I'm fairly certain that your wife isn't dead, perhaps if you spent more than forty-eight hours looking for her, then I'd reflect on our highly irrelevant and stupidly mundane time together and then lose your number.'"

"I think you took up all the good roles this year."

"God, I hope the next film isn't this bad."

"They should just show your movie again."

"It was so much more interesting."

"Because you were in it?"

"Yes."

"You're astoundingly humble."

"I feel I'm reasonably confident."

"Did that guy just shush us?"

"It might be the director. Perhaps we're being rude."

"Well I think it's rude of him to make us sit through this movie."

"Extremely rude!"

"What an ass."

"I'm starving."

"Oh! I brought snacks."

Twenty minutes later, both girls were munching on hummus and pita bread.

"Why is she wearing that dress?"

"I think it's supposed to be symbolic."

"I get it; because she has poor taste in fashion it's symbolic of her poor life choices?"

"Quinn, you have outdone yourself with this hummus."

"I've been messing with the lemon juice to paprika ratios."

"It's absolutely delicious."

"Did you want to go skiing tomorrow?"

"No, thank you. That sounds like an excellent way to ruining my career. But it's okay if you'd like to."

"Oh my, God! Why is there a full-frontal man-part?"

"I did _not _see that advertized in tonight's brochure and I _will _be speaking to someone about it!"

After the grueling eighty minutes were up, Rachel and Quinn stood outside in an effort to erase that last movie from their minds. The final film would start in fifteen minutes so the pair sat comfortably outside on a bench beside a small fire pit, their arms around each other.

Rachel sighed with a smile as she took in the scenic beauty. "This is nice."

"Relaxed?"

"Hmm, yes. I didn't even realized how stressed I've been for the last month until this very moment."

"Are you cold? I could go to the shuttle to get our coats."

"It's fine. The fire is warm enough." Quinn closed her eyes as she leaned against Rachel.

"Yeah, it is." The blonde whispered.

The first night of _Sundance _had ended well. The last movie was fairly entertaining—at least Quinn and Rachel made it entertaining with their running commentary—and the Q&A had been standard questions. It didn't stop Quinn from holding her breath every time a question had been directed to Rachel. But the diva handled each one beautifully.

Which_ of You, I Love_ was the most celebrated movie that night and received the biggest applause and the most questions. It was definitely a hit. But it had been late when they finally got back to the house. Quinn actually had to wake Rachel and guide the diva inside. Night one was down, nine more to go.

X

"I've dabbled in writing, but mostly I see myself acting, maybe directing one day. I don't know. The sky's the limit. I feel fairly confident that I'll get another role soon. I mean, when you look at me, don't you just _see _lead actor?"

"Hmm."

"And I think that the phone will ring any minute. I've submitted my resume to a rather _large _agency recently, and I'm sure they'll be dying to work with me."

"Mmmhmmm."

"You should have seen me in _Pippin_; I stole the show for sure!"

"Fascinating."

"I actually think you can see a montage of my work on _YouTube, _give me a second to pull it up."

Quinn rolled her neck and sighed deeply as she looked around the room, desperate for _anyone _to come to her rescue. The annoying actor had cornered her at the bar and Rachel was nowhere in sight.

The guy laughed loudly, his eyes close to his phone, as he watched himself perform. "That was an adlib, by the way." He chuckled. He wasn't even aware that Quinn wasn't listening.

Quinn caught sight of brown hair and practically jumped in relief. "Sorry, but I see my fiancée. It was nice meeting you." The blonde said politely, about to leave a white cartoon cloud-dust in her wake.

"Oh. You're engaged?" The guy asked, looking more than a little disappointed. "Is he an actor, or does he just work the camera or something?" Quinn counted to ten before she responded, hoping she came off less bitching than she really wanted.

"Actor."

"He's in the festival?"

"Yep, for two movies actually." Quinn replied with a fake smile as her eyes stayed fixed on the small figure moving across the room.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. And _she _is also the star of a Broadway musical. Now if you'll excuse me." This was the latest of a string of guys who had corned Quinn. Each time someone approached, the blonde did her best to be patient, act interested, and seem polite, but all she really wanted was to yawn loudly and roll her eyes at their lame attempts. However, she didn't know anyone there and she was Rachel's representation; she couldn't just walk away from them. Word was getting around that she was Rachel's agent, so when she was approached, she had to handle each person as though they wanted to give the diva her next break. So far, they only seemed interested in Quinn and they were a pack of nobodies.

Well…that's not fair. A few of the guys had been actually genuine. They were all attractive. And Quinn couldn't get away from them fast enough. Unfortunately, Rachel had been conveniently absent once the blonde had been cornered. But that was all in the diva's plan.

Quinn groaned to herself as her eyes scanned the large room; she had lost Rachel again to the crowd. Earlier, they watched a few more films which lead to a meet and greet; a way to network and catch up with cast mates. Mostly, Quinn had spent her time fighting off pretentious Hollywood wanabes.

"Hello there." Quinn sucked her teeth and tried to rid her expression of downright irritation; she was trapped yet again.

"How do you do?" The blonde grimaced, shaking the man's hand as she began her Rachel-search all over again.

Across the room and hidden behind a rather gorilla-like waiter, Rachel Berry stood as she bit her lip and watched Quinn. It had been fairly difficult to avoid the blonde all evening, but she was doing a fairly great job at it. Her height helped. The diva was pleased that she was also able to juggle networking in with her plan; meeting people and answering their questions, all while keeping one eye on her blonde.

The plan. She had been putting it off for quite awhile but now she was finally executing it. The plan went a little something like this:

"_Good evening, I'm Rachel Berry. Are you enjoying tonight's festivities?" _

"_Good evening, I'm Random Guy. I'm having a fine time." _

"_I'm happy to hear that Random Guy. There are so many interesting people to meet. For instance, do you see that devastatingly gorgeous blonde over there?" _

"_Why, yes I do." _

"_We were just talking about all the latest clients she has gotten jobs for. You should go talk to her and find out if she has something to offer you." _

"_What an excellent idea." _

"_It was nice to meet you, Random Guy." _

"_It was nice to meet you, Rachel Berry. And may I just add, you're talent is massive and something I will aspire to replicate for the rest of my life. If I'm a tenth as good as you, I'd count myself lucky." _

"_How sweet of you to say, Random Guy. Good luck hitting on my fake fiancée in an effort to see if she's actual serious about spending the rest of her life with me even if she'll never fall in love." _

"_But, Ms. Berry, won't it drive you crazy watching Random Guys hit on the woman you are madly in love with?" _

"_It's funny you should ask that, Random Guy, because I almost attacked the last Random Guy who spoke to Quinn because his shoulder brushed hers." _

"_Then why are you putting yourself through this torture, Ms. Berry?" _

"_Because, Random Guy, I'm not entirely sure Quinn understands what she's doing and I'll be damned if I don't at least try and let her see what else is out there. But please do forgive me later if I try and trip you if our paths cross again." _

"_Is that what happened to that other Random Guy?" _

"_No, I merely pushed him subtly until the crab dip was all over his suit. In my defense, the suit looked better after I was done." _

Rachel was giving herself far too much credit, however, because she was barely talking to the small group she was supposedly "networking" with and more Quinn-watching than anything else. The blonde appeared annoyed, not outwardly so, but Rachel was familiar with the expression and Quinn's body language. She took a small amount of comfort in that, but mostly she felt it had to do with the poor choices in Random Guys. She'd just have to do better. Rachel hated that thought.

"There you are!" Quinn exclaimed almost an hour later. "Jesus, Rachel where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!"

"Sorry, I just needed some air."

"Every five seconds some loser would come up to me and talk my ear off, I really could have used you in there." Quinn complained as she leaned against the balcony. Rachel wrapped her jacket around her tighter as she stared off towards the snowy mountains. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Rachel answered with a fake smile, not meeting the blonde's eye. Of course Quinn saw right through that.

"That's just get out of here. People have started to leave and we have another long day ahead of us tomorrow." Rachel nodded silently before allowing Quinn to take her hand and escort her back to the shuttle. Day two had not been fun.

X

Day three had been much better for both girls, but mostly because Quinn didn't let Rachel out of her sight. They spent the morning walking around town before watching a few films. Later that night was the Salt Lake City Gala and it was supposed to be quite the event.

"I'm going to get us some champagne." Rachel said, already moving across the room.

"I'll come, too." The blonde practically screamed as she took off after Rachel. The diva was semi relieved that she wouldn't have to go along with her stupid plan, however. She was just trying to bury the reason down deeply.

Once Rachel found a waiter, she took a flute of champagne off a tray and gulped greedily. Quinn requested a club soda. "Okay, what's going on?" The blonde asked as she threw up her arms in exasperation.

"Whatever do you mean, Quinn?" Rachel asked once she had polished off the rest of her champagne.

Quinn rolled her eyes at the sky while she huffed; that was so Rachel's fake voice. "You're avoiding me. What did I do? You've been like this since yesterday." Not far away, a band started to perform and Quinn quickly took Rachel's hand to lead her outside so that they could talk properly. It helped that Salt Later city wasn't as congested as Park City, where the main _Sundance _festival takes place.

"Can you please just telling me what's going on? If I upset you or you're mad because those guys were talking to me-"

"Why would I be upset if a bunch of guys were talking to you, Quinn?" Rachel cut Quinn off, looking annoyed and a little suspicious. Quinn took a deep breath and started over.

"I'm just asking if I've upset you in some way. I thought we were here to relax and spend time together because we barely get to hang out." Rachel felt guilty suddenly, wanting exactly that and all too happy to comply.

"You're right. I'm sorry." Rachel apologized as she took Quinn's hands and smiled up at the blonde genuinely. "I was avoiding you."

"Why?" Quinn demanded, scared by Rachel's unexpected distance.

Rachel sighed deeply as she bit her lip, not wanting to lie but unable to tell the truth. _It would help immensely if you weren't so perfect_. "I'm just stressed, Quinn. The show, school, the festival, not seeing you, the _wedding_. I don't want _Wink and a Nod _to end up like _A Sweetness _and…" This was it, Rachel was just going to tell Quinn about her plan. She was just going to come clean about how much she worried about Quinn compromising her own happiness for the diva's. And then Rachel felt it.

She looked down, her brow furrowed, as she felt the new addition to Quinn's finger. "What's this?" Rachel asked, looking up at Quinn as she raised the blonde's left ring finger up for Quinn to see.

"It's a ring." Quinn answered with a shrug.

"It's a _diamond _ring." Rachel clarified. It wasn't very nice but she had never seen it on Quinn before.

"I picked it up earlier today while we were in town."

"When?" Rachel asked, trying to rack her brain. It wasn't very Quinn-like. It was gaudy yet, far too small.

"When you called your fathers."

"Well…why'd you get it? It's hardly your style."

Again, Quinn shrugged. "There wasn't much of a selection. It's not a real diamond, it's a cubic zirconia." Rachel frowned deeper as she looked at the hideous ring.

"Well…why'd you buy it?"

Quinn cleared her throat as she tried to refrain from shuffling nervously. "Because…I wanted…_people_…to know that…I'm…engaged." Warding off guys the night before had been exhausting. Quinn figured if she had a blaring sign on her finger that said "Hands Off!" she'd be less likely to get approached.

"Oh." Rachel said lamely, her mind racing.

_Well…that's…interesting. _

_Downright puzzling. _

_Why the hell would she get herself a fake engagement ring? _

_I guess it's like she just said; to make it clear she's off limits. _

_That would imply that she's happily _in_ this. Not at all interested in finding someone else. _

_I suppose so. _

_Huh. _

_Yeah. _

_That ring is just awful. _

_It looks ridiculously out of place on her finger. _

_Horrid. _

_We should definitely do something about that. _

_Absolutely! _

_As soon as we get back—_

_Already a step ahead of you. _

_We'll go first thing. _

"Is that okay?" Quinn asked, with a bit more attitude than she intended. Rachel Berry was just _that_ infuriating.

"Yes…of course. I just…yes of course." Rachel said, shaking her head slightly as her mind continued to move at warped speeds. The band ended their slow waltz and kicked things up a notch with something faster.

"Let's go inside." Quinn said carefully, still observing Rachel's thoughtful expression. But just like that, all at once, Rachel was stunned to find that she no longer had any use for her plan. She reasoned that if Quinn was silently communicating to the world that she was taken, then she wouldn't be receptive to anyone's advances, so why should Rachel even bother trying? The diva was further stunned when her mind kept thinking up designs for Quinn's future ring.

They kept their hands linked and joined their friends by the dance floor. The Gala was another great opportunity to meet people so, together, Quinn and Rachel made the rounds. Nothing overly exciting happened, despite the many celebrities they saw, and no one of importance was there to network with.

"Would you like to dance?" Quinn and Rachel had been standing just shy of the dance floor, the blonde just behind Rachel. The whispered words surprised the blonde.

"You want to dance?" Quinn asked, slightly taken aback that Rachel was the one who initiated it. She was working up the courage to ask the diva when Rachel beat her to the punch. Rachel turned to look up Quinn.

"Yes. I would like to dance with you." Their eyes held and locked as they gazed at one another, Rachel, slightly tipsy from her champagne, and Quinn, slightly tipsy off of Rachel. Most of the night had been somewhat a bust as far as they all were concerned. So instead of wasting time watching film after film, all fifteen of them talked and laughed and spoke excitedly about their red carpet experience.

For Quinn, watching Rachel be carefree and joking around with the rest of the boys, had been almost a perfect moment. Now that the boys were across the room, hitting up the food, Quinn wanted a private moment alone with Rachel. It thrilled her that Rachel wanted the same.

Without answering, Quinn tugged on the hand that was already encased with her own until they were in the middle of the dance floor. Rachel made a face at Quinn, sticking her tongue out playfully, before she wrapped her arms around the blonde's waist. "Thanks for dancing with me."

Quinn smiled as she shook her head at Rachel's behavior. She was all over the place that sometimes the blonde wanted to rip her hair out…but then she's be adorable like at that moment. "You owe me. This is absolute torture right now." Quinn said airily as she linked her fingers behind Rachel's neck.

"How _do _you put up with me?"

"I don't. I find tuning you out really the best way to go."

"Smart move, Quinn. I tend to babble."

"Is that so? Never noticed."

"How could you…with all that tuning out and whatnot." Quinn smirked as she rolled her eyes.

"So you're okay? _We're _okay? You're not, like, going to feed me to anymore pretentious wolves, are you?"

Rachel shook her head with a small smile playing on her lips. "No." She whispered.

"Good. Cause we're a team. And if I have to suffer through a boring speech, so do you." Rachel nodded again as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before returning her hand to Quinn's hip.

"I understand. And I'm sorry."

"We're in this together, Rach. Come our wedding day, I'm going to need you there to keep me sane with all the craziness. I'm going to need you to keep me from cracking up at the altar."

Rachel chuckled as she looked up at the agitated blonde, clearly lost in thoughts of the upcoming day. "Who's going to keep _me _from laughing?"

"You're on your own. I already have you assigned to keep me in check."

"Technically it won't be an altar."

"So not the point. Just try and soak up all the attention. Maybe then no one will even notice I'm there."

"That's absolutely not a problem." Rachel said as she laughed openly.

Day three wasn't so bad.

X

The premier of _A Date a Month _wasn't nearly as exciting as the other film's had been. There was no red carpet, no reporters, and no flashing cameras. Everyone dressed casually as they made their way into the large theater and took their seats for day nine of the festival.

Just like they had done during every other film that week, Quinn and Rachel sat closely as they commented on each scene, each line, each interesting part that Rachel had a story to go along with. Unlike _Which of You, I Love_, Quinn had seen most of _A_ _Date a Month_ already, so it was just fun to sit back and watch the romantic comedy play out. She didn't particularly care for each actor that kissed Rachel on screen, but she did her best not to jump into the row where each respective actor sat and kill him slowly.

Now that they were getting along like old times, Quinn was trying to plot ways of making her own plan happen. You know…the one where she wanted to get _very _intimate with Rachel Berry. So far, there really hadn't been an opportunity. Before _Sundance _they had just been way too busy. And now that they were in Utah…well…they were still just too busy. But the next day would be the closing ceremony of the festival and one of the biggest nights. Quinn had high hopes.

In the middle of the week, Quinn spent some time on the slopes with the guys while Rachel stayed at the house and worked on the musical. She insisted that Quinn go and not stay to help her rehearse, but only because she was starting to worry: Rachel was all out of plans.

Every time the diva thought up a plan, Quinn would come along and ruin it. With no plan, there was nothing to keep her mind distracted from falling even further in love with Quinn Fabray. It was troubling. She had even called Jesse to ask for help. How surprising he offered none. But the boy really was just tired of hearing Rachel deny her feelings, so instead of giving advice, he merely huffed and told the diva that she needed professional help before he hung up.

Rachel was starting to feel like she did when she first fully realized her feelings for the blonde. She was terrified and confused. Nothing was making sense anymore. She thought making a flowchart of Quinn's treatment towards her would help; staring with freshman year of high school up until the present. It was the most convoluted flowchart one could ever see!

What was worse, everything seemed full steam ahead. She was going to get Quinn an engagement ring. _Wink and a Nod_ would premiere soon. Quinn was in college, working on her career, and moving ahead with her business. And, of course, there was the wedding. Everything was happening so quickly that Rachel was almost lightheaded over the timetable. It was all…too…_perfect! _

They were getting along again. Their bickering had stopped. And, yeah, Rachel understood that they would go back to never seeing each other once the plane touched down in New York because of their busy schedules, but everything was good at the moment. But Rachel just _knew _that at any second, something would come along and derail everything. So she was patiently waiting for it; she needed all the help she could get.

"Wow, this song really is beautiful." Quinn breathed out beside Rachel. She had almost completely forgotten the diva in favor of the screen version and the movie was almost over. Rachel's character, Jocelyn, was currently crying over the realization that she may have lost the man of her dreams. It was a heart wrenching montage set to Dovelyn Schutt's _Nightmare_ and Quinn would declare until her last breath that she did _not _tear up at that moment. She hadn't been there that day of filming because she and Rachel weren't speaking, so Quinn was caught off-guard by the diva's raw emotions.

"Mmhmm. I think it blends quite nicely into the next scene." Rachel whispered, also transfixed with Matt and Chris' vision of the film. It was more of an indie romantic comedy, that was for sure, but it was still so sweet.

Quinn coughed to cover up the fact that she was moments away from openly sobbing; she was pretty sure Rachel would never let her live that down. Luckily, no one was the wiser, and ten minutes later the lights came up and the applause echoed around the theatre as the cast and crew took their bows before going up on stage for the Q&A.

Four other films were shown that day, yet most of the questions were directed towards Rachel. Both her films were so starkly different that people wanted to know about her. Quinn couldn't stop smiling; the audience _loved _her little diva. Rachel looked like a true professional up on the stage, laughing in her seat as she traded smiles with her cast, handling each question honestly but with humor, and just being…Rachel. She seemed so much more at ease in the spotlight than out of it. More…mature or something.

Quinn cocked her head as she watched Rachel nod along with Zach about a certain scene before she further answered the audience member's question. _That's my future wife up there_, Quinn thought as her smile spread. She rested her cheek against her palm and sighed.

X

Unfortunately for Quinn and her plan, the last night of _Sundance _was, as advertized, extremely huge. Everyone who was anyone was there and the whole group split up in an effort to cover more ground in hopes that they'd find someone who had taken an interest in at least one of their films.

"Hi again." Quinn glanced up and her face immediately expressed boredom and irritation. It was a Random Guy from the other night. Instead of answering him—it wasn't like he was anyone important—Quinn's left ringer finger shot up in the air as she waved it in front of the guy. "It was nice talking to you." He mumbled before he stalked off.

Quinn let out a sigh as she rubbed her temple. If anyone had told her that watching movies all week and attending parties would be exhausting, she would have told them they were crazy. But she would be wrong. She couldn't spot Rachel anywhere, so with a defeated sigh, Quinn ignored the chatting people around her and hightailed it to the balcony where she could take a minute to regroup.

It didn't last long.

Simultaneously, Quinn felt two sets of hands hitch themselves under her shoulders before she was being turned around, airborne, and carried back towards the party. "What the- Zach- Paul…what are you doing? Let me go!" Both boys' faces were pale and set with a hint of terror in their eyes before they placed her down just outside the double-doors that lead back into the room. "What the hell is your-" Quinn gasped sharply as she grabbed Zach's t-shirt. "What is it? Rachel?"

Zach jerked a nod before he motioned with his chin across the room. Quinn's eyes flew to the scene, expecting to see Rachel in trouble. What she saw instead, was Chris. Quinn's eyebrow rose dangerously. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on?"

Paul swallowed thickly and Quinn noted that the boy was sweating slightly. "Chris is talking to a suit."

Quinn's eyes conveyed that she needed a bit more. "From a studio." Zach tried to clarify.

"And…?"

"And they want to buy _A Date a Month_." Quinn blanched before she stood straighter. "Please tell me you can handle this. Chris is crashing." Both Zach and Paul were holding their breath, obviously extremely worried about their fates.

Quinn took a minute to get her bearings before she nodded slowly. "Get everyone," The blonde said, her eyes on Chris across the room and the man beside him. "Wait on the other side of the bar."

The boys immediately took off and Quinn tried her best to recall everything that she had ever leaned; from Sylvester to NYU. Quickly checking her appearance in the reflection of the double doors, the blonde pushed them open and confidently strode through the room with a blank expression on her face. "Quinn, there you-" Rachel was cut off as Quinn raised her hand, not even bothering to look at the diva, and kept on walking. Rachel frowned deeply, as Quinn knew she would, but she couldn't risk Rachel throwing her off her game.

As she approached, Quinn heard Chris' uncomfortable chuckle and she knew she arrived not a minute too soon. "Chris, there you are. We're trying to leave soon." Quinn interrupted, placing herself between Chris and the suit.

Chris' eyes widened pleadingly, obviously trying to convey to Quinn that he was in the middle of something important, but the blonde continued to stare at him. "Um…Quinn Fabray, meet Malcolm Davidson." Quinn slowly turned to take in the man, surprised that he was reasonably young, considering.

"How do you do, Mr. Davidson." Quinn greeted, shaking the man's hand politely before turning back to the director. "Are you almost ready to go?" Chris' wide eyes stared at her imploringly to catch on. Quinn almost laughed.

"Actually, Ms. Fabray, Chris and I were in the middle of business." Malcolm said, smiling slightly.

"Oh?" Quinn asked, turning back to the man.

"That's right."

"_A Date a Month _or _Which of You, I Love?" _Her eyebrow was raised as she folded her arms across her chest and stared down Malcolm. The man shifted, the first sign he was a tad uncomfortable, before he smiled again.

"_A Date_."

"That's lovely." Quinn smiled genuinely before she turned back to Chris. "So ready to go?"

"Quinn! I'm…in the middle of something, here." Malcolm laughed and folded his arms as well, clearly enjoying the sudden interesting element that had walked into the conversation.

"Chris," Quinn placated softly. "We've talked about this. We already have a buyer and they're interested in _both _movies, not just one." She turned back to Malcolm and held out her hand. "No offense, Mr. Davidson, but we are more than happy with our current backer." Quinn grabbed Chris' elbow as the boy sputtered, and went to leave when she felt the anticipatory hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry…did you say you already have a buyer?" Quinn practically shoved Chris into the direction of the rest of the group as she spun back to Malcolm.

"Hmm." She hummed as she motioned for the bartender. Quinn placed her drink order—club soda—and smiled at Malcolm falsely.

"That's funny…I didn't hear anything about that in the trades." Malcolm said as he rubbed the back of his neck. The guy probably thought his smile was charming but all Quinn saw was Finn and she almost threw her drink in his face just cause.

"Well it's been a long ten days." Quinn shrugged before sipping on her straw.

"I think I would have heard."

"Is that because you're familiar with New York Broadway millionaires? You seem more like a West Coast kind of guy." Quinn said as she looked around the room disinterestedly.

"Um..I am. I mean, I'm from Conduit Studios in L.A. What do you mean New York millionaire?" He didn't seem like a bad guy, Quinn reasoned. His black hair was a little too shiny in her opinion, and he probably wasn't that big a deal at his firm, but as of right then, he was the enemy so she had to treat him as such.

"Ainsley Swaine." Quinn answered dryly. As her eyes searched the room to express just how little she needed to be having the conversation—despite the fact that she _did _need to be having the conversation—she spotted Rachel's eager expression and smiled.

"Who's Ainsley Swaine?"

"Ainsley Swaine wouldn't get out of bed for anything less than a Broadway hit. He doesn't do movies." Quinn gave the new guest an interested quirk of her eyebrow as she sucked on her club soda. "I say you're bluffing." The older woman said smugly as she leaned against the bar. She was another suit. Probably around fifty. And most likely a bitch.

"Oh?" Quinn asked comfortably. The woman only nodded. Malcolm suddenly looked very frightened to be in between those two women. "So you know a lot about Ainsley?" Quinn asked, searching for Rachel's eyes again for reassurance.

"I'm familiar. I don't call him Ainsley, but I know of him, yes." Quinn almost laughed out loud because she _did _call him Ainsley and she _did _know him, and this woman didn't do her homework. Well…Quinn _was _bluffing. But she knew Ainsley would go along with it and be proud that she did bluff.

"So you know of his new Broadway musical?"

"_Wink and a Nod." _The woman looked proud she had all the answers.

"Annnd do you know who's _starring _in _Wink and a Nod?_"

"She's practically an unknown, Rach-" The woman's disposition changed at once. She stood straighter and that smug smirk was gone. Quinn was pretty sure all the blood rushed to her feet as well.

"Like I was saying. We already _have _a backer. Someone who wants to buy _both _films and we're reasonably happy with how things turned out. It was nice meeting you Mr. Davidson, and you too, Ms…?"

"Shiloh." The woman returned Quinn's handshake but didn't return her gaze. "You must be Ms. Fabray." Malcolm narrowed his eyes, surprised his boss knew the blonde.

"That's right." Quinn smiled brightly, hiding her shock.

"You're the agent." The blonde nodded again and gave the woman her complete attention. They understood one another now. Slowly, Quinn turned to cast her line and it didn't take long for Ms. Shiloh to take the bait. "You said _reasonably _happy. Why only reasonably?"

Over her shoulder, Quinn frowned for affect. "The same problem everyone always has: not enough money." With that, Quinn took off towards her group and shot Rachel a glare to make sure the diva told the others not to look Quinn's way; they couldn't come off eager.

She didn't even make it ten steps before Ms. Shiloh was at her side. "How much?"

"It's not a matter of _only _money, I should clarify." Quinn said as the woman fell into step beside her. "But a matter of screen-distribution as well."

"You want more money and more screens for two independent films with a cast of nobodies?" The woman scoffed. "In your dreams."

"You're the one following me, Ms. Shiloh." The woman smiled ruefully before placing her hand on Quinn's forearm to stop her progress.

"I can't do both films. The studio wants _A Date a Month_. You and I both know that it will play better for a wider-range of audiences. A small, dark, independent movie doesn't make money." Quinn conceded with a shrug.

"Perhaps not. But the winner of best dramatic full-length at _Sundance? _I'm sure you could sell that to your bosses." The woman smirked and looked around the crowded room in consideration.

"I can't go above five million, I wasn't authorized to buy both films, and you'd be lucky to get _A Date _in more than ten theatres in every state." It was Quinn's turn to laugh.

"You know you can go above five million, _you're _the one working this deal right now, and ten screens? That's actually deeply insulting, you know that right?"

"Six mill, three hundred screens."

"That's still insulting." Quinn turned to go but was stopped once again.

"When are you leaving?" The woman asked impatiently with a huff.

"Early tomorrow morning."

"We'll be in touch." Quinn watched the woman turn on her heel and stride out of the room with Malcolm closely trailing her.

Quinn would only have to wait an hour.

Thirteen nervous boys sat around the kitchen of the house watching a neurotic Rachel Berry pace. Their eyes scanned her each step as she bit her thumb nail—mind on the blonde a room over with the two suits.

Rachel recalled watching Quinn in action an hour earlier as she paced. Quinn had looked confident. Quinn had looked cool. Quinn had looked way too sexy for Rachel's own good. It was clear, even from across the room, that the blonde had been the one in power. And power looked hot on Quinn Fabray; always had.

Quinn glanced at the slip of paper Shiloh had just given her and grinned. "You're kidding me?" The woman shook her head. "You're willing to give me _this _much for _A Date and Which of You?_" The woman nodded again. Malcolm looked lost. "This is a lot of screens."

"I know." The woman was a statue and Quinn was trying to read her endgame. Something was off.

"What's the catch?"

Shiloh shifted in her seat and unbuttoned her jacket. "Advertizing is a lot of money."

"Thank you for the lesson." Quinn mumbled with faux demure as she read over the figures once again.

"Ever hear of the _Tow Street Chronicles?_" Quinn's head jerked up at the strange question and she narrowed her eyes at the woman; Shiloh suddenly seemed nervous.

"Those books about the teenage gang?" Quinn asked, completely bemused.

"They're also movies." Malcolm said helpfully.

"Okay?"

"The first movie had a big opening. Huge, actually. Everyone went batshit over the love story, blah, blah, blah. The second movie was a little better, but it dropped off fast because apparently the stars broke up in real life." Quinn rolled her eyes as she tried to catch up. "But the third movie was projected to hit _big; _the couple got engaged and their wedding date was set right after the premiere."

"Naturally." Quinn muttered. "You said _was_. Why isn't it _still _projecting big numbers?"

Shiloh sighed and ran her hand through her long dark hair. "Because they called off the wedding."

"Actors." Quinn replied haughtily with a smirk.

"The movie is going to tank, so the studio is hesitant to buy up anything. Especially because they were funding the whole spectacle that was to be their wedding."

"Weddings _are _expensive. I would know; I'm in the middle of paying for one."

"Rachel Berry is about to hit Broadway in a big way. Not like the West Coast cares, but with these two movies, she'll be something of a celebrity." Shiloh continued quickly, clearly steamrolling through the next part. "The problem is advertizing.

"Conduit doesn't want to shell out millions to buy both films and then shell out millions _more_ on advertising when the likelihood that either one making six figures at the box-office is slim to zilch."

"Ohhhkay?"

"Furthermore," Shiloh pressed. "As good as _Which of You_, is, it's still too low-budget to be anywhere near good enough for Oscar recognition. They're planning to re-shoot and then, maybe, it could be a contender." Quinn's eyes widened. _Oscar? _"It would need just a few touch-ups, but buying a movie, then reshooting it, and not having the money to advertize it, is, frankly, ridiculous."

"I feel as though you're about to get to the point and I think it would just be easier if you _did_."

Shiloh scoffed and spoke through a clenched jaw. "Instead of spending the money on advertizing, we want to utilize the money that we've already spent."

"And you spent the money _where?_"

"In _Tow Street." _

"Which is a ridiculous name." Quinn paused. "If the money is already spent, how do you intend on getting it back, exactly?"

"The third movie will be a bust; that goes without saying. But if we were to use that flop and parlay it into your advertising, the studio will buy both films, give you your money and screens, and happily reshoot _Which of You_ to make it an Academy Award contender."

Quinn made a noise of confusion as she narrowed her eyes. "I'm still unable to see how you're going to be able to do that."

Shiloh leaned forward on the couch and smiled. "Didn't you just say you know how much weddings cost? Surely you can put it together."

Quinn's back hit her chair hard as she stared disbelieving at the two suits across from her. "You _can't _be serious."

"She's serious." Malcolm interjected. Neither woman paid him any attention.

"Please explain fully?" Quinn gritted out.

Shiloh waited a beat before continuing. "I think you know what I'm suggesting."

Quinn was silent for a moment before she sucked her teeth. "You want to get Rachel's name out there by making our wedding day a spectacle."

"Couldn't have put it better myself."

X

Rachel sat comfortably in her seat before tossing her hair over her shoulder with a flick. "Mustyou do that?" Jesse asked irritably as he checked his shirt to make sure it was clear of hair.

The diva glanced beside her and looked at Jesse with concern. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" He scoffed. "Rachel, you got me up at the crack of dawn after I spent eight weeks working my ass off. I was finally going to sleep in, and instead, I'm here." The boy grumbled as he folded his arms over his chest with a pout.

"No one told you to spend two additional weeks in Europe, Jesse." Rachel mentioned as she flipped through the catalogue on her lap. "And please don't bring me down just because Martha finally ended it with you in favor of the lead actor in _American Idiot_."

Jesse huffed indignantly and then stifled a yawn. "What's _taking _so long?"

"I suppose all the paperwork." Rachel mumbled. "Aw, this is beautiful, isn't it?" Rachel showed the boy a picture from the catalogue with a smile.

"You're too happy, which usually means you're up to no good." Jesse said as he stretched in the chair. "Shouldn't they offer us champagne or something?" The boy asked as he turned in his seat to look around the store.

"It's ten o'clock in the morning, Jesse."

"Hmm."

"And I'm not up to no good; I'm merely in a wonderful mood." Rachel stated evenly.

"I don't buy that. You're bound to have thought up some insane plot to sabotage everything epically."

"I did not."

"Rachel, honey, whatever it is you're planning, just stop."

"I said I wasn't, Jesse!"

"Then how do you explain the fact that we are currently in _Tiffany's, _about to buy your beautiful, yet, _fake, _fiancée a three carat diamond ring?" Rachel continued to flip through her catalogue and ignored the boy. "_Your _ring isn't even that big."

"What's the point of coming into money if you don't spend it on the one's you-"

"Love?" Jesse finished with a smirk. Rachel chose to ignore this as well.

"Besides," Rachel continued, placing the catalogue back on the counter. "After the incredible performance Quinn put on, I think she deserves it."

"Ahhh, yes. The illustrious Quinn Fabray and her pit-bull-like instincts. Did I tell you she got me another five hundred a week?" Jesse grinned at the diva as he folded his arms behind his head. "Your Quinn certainly knows what she's doing."

"She's a natural." Rachel said as she blushed, ducking her head before quickly grabbing the catalogue again, nervously and needlessly flipping through it.

"So," Jesse broached as he sat up and crossed one leg over the other. "How _are _you going to pop the question? Hmm? What's this, theeee…tenth proposal?" Rachel rolled her eyes and flipped away. "Maybe do it opening night of _Wink and a Nod_, on stage, adoring crowd? No, no, Ainsley would never go for it. How about on _Good Morning America _when you go to promote the musical? Or even…" Jesse gasped in fake enthusiasm. "I know! Just tell her you love her and be done with all this nonsense." The boy rolled his eyes and folded his arms.

"No idea what you're talking about."

"Hmm." They sat in silence before Rachel finally gave up on her catalogue again. "This would be so much more amusing with champagne."

X

Rachel sat on the living room couch watching the news when the front door opened. "…Because we _need _a direct flight and I don't think it's too much to ask for considering the studio wants _us _to come to _them_, so just make it happen!" Quinn smiled at Rachel from across the room and held up her finger and rolled her eyes indicating that she'd be off the phone soon and was clearly annoyed over taking the call.

The diva watched as Quinn juggled her bags into the bedroom before hurrying back out and over to Rachel. "Then who _do _I need to speak to about this?" Quinn demanded of the person on the other end of the line before she smiled again at Rachel and leaned down to give her a quick kiss hello. "Did you do the laundry?" Quinn mouthed to the diva, clearly knowing the answer because when she made the trip into the bedroom, all the clothes were missing from the hamper.

Rachel nodded and Quinn's face lit up in surprise and gratitude. "I got Chinese, too." Rachel whispered before slipping off the couch and trotting to the kitchen. Quinn followed behind the diva and stood in the archway while the receptionist from the studio babbled away on the line.

"Thank you so much, Rach, I'm starving." Quinn gushed as she held her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. Rachel only nodded as she brought all the cartons of food out to the table. Quinn collapsed into the chair across from Rachel and quickly starting shoveling food down her throat. "The studio wants us there in a week, so I suggest you figure something out quickly." Quinn demanded of the receptionist.

Rachel chuckled quietly as she observed Quinn in all her bitchy glory. The blonde's cell phone had practically been glued to her ear ever since they returned from Utah. Mostly because Quinn was anxious about everything. But she had reason to be. Rachel and Quinn decided to do something hugely stupid. "Then can you _please _explain it to me again?" Quinn hissed to the receptionist before housing more food.

"Quinn?" Rachel whispered.

The blonde glanced up, mouth full, and quirked her eyebrow. But Rachel didn't do or say anything. And then Quinn looked down. On the table, in a light blue box, was the most beautiful diamond ring Quinn had ever seen. "I'm going to have to call you back." Quinn breathed out before she blindly hung up her phone.

Quinn was silent for a full minute as she just stared at the round-cut, three carat diamond ring with its platinum setting. "You-" But that's all the blonde could get out.

Rachel continued eating as she watched Quinn process; the blonde looked exceptionally adorable. "I-"

"I didn't think you'd want me to make a big fuss about it. I hope that's okay?" Rachel said nervously. Quinn only bobbed her head, still staring at the ring. "Don't worry about money. Everything with the movies and all, I can pay it off right away and Ainsley gave me an advance." More bobbing. "Can I- do you want to put it on?" Rachel bit her lip and watched as Quinn nodded some more, but made no move to pick up the ring.

Rachel smiled as set down her chopsticks and wiped her hands off carefully. She took Quinn's hand—after she pried the chopsticks out her the blonde's tense fingers—and removed the fake ring Quinn had bought in Utah. Rachel made a mental note to throw the ugly ring away. Dark brown eyes watched Quinn's expression closely as she slid the ring in place; her face was still so shocked.

Sitting back in her chair, Rachel's eyelashes fluttered as she waited for Quinn to actually form words. But Quinn just kept gawking at the ring. Finally, the diva just started eating again as she continued to stare at Quinn.

She had no words. It had been so unexpected. The ring was exactly what she always imagined wearing and she was positive she never shared that with Rachel. Yet, there it was, on her finger. And if it were possible, it was the most perfect proposal; understated, not awkward or fake or uncomfortable.

Rachel cleaned up dinner as Quinn sat dumbfounded at the table. Twenty minutes later, after Rachel changed for bed, she went back out to the kitchen to retrieve her fiancée. She smiled to herself as she guided Quinn to the bedroom and clicked off the lights before climbing into bed. "I'm glad you like it." Rachel whispered as Quinn fumbled into her clothes. Rachel rolled over and closed her eyes, smiling and pleased. Not long after, the blonde eventually got under the covers and held her hand in front of her face to stare at her ring some more. She had no recollection of falling asleep.

X

"Right this way, ladies, everyone is ready for you." Rachel and Quinn exchanged nervous glances before they followed the receptionist into the glass-enclosed office. The room-full of suites all turned in their seats at the large, mahogany rectangular table to smile at them as they tentatively made their way inside.

The deal went like this: the studio would save money by not spending millions of more dollars advertizing _A Date a Month _and _Which of You, I Love_. Instead, they'd use the resources they already paid for to catapult Rachel into the limelight. Rachel would appear in a few more interviews. Suddenly her face would be seen on magazine covers. Commercials and billboards would display Rachel Berry and her upcoming films. They'd push the musical. Show Rachel and Quinn in a tabloid or two. Suddenly, this out-of-nowhere-star would be having a celebrity wedding everyone famous would be attending. Instant publicity, spare no expense, but without the _actual _expense. It's usually why celebrities made big announcements around the time of their movie or record release; two birds, one stone.

Neither girl was thrilled with the deal. However, in agreeing, the studio bought both films, agreed to showcase them, _and _their wedding was paid in full. Downside? Now they _really _didn't have a say over their wedding and it would be an even bigger deal than before.

"Ms. Berry, Ms. Fabray, so glad to see you again. Please, have a seat." Malcolm directed from the back of the room with a boyish grin, Shiloh beside him. Rachel's chair squeaked as she smoothed out her skirt and sat next to Quinn at the middle of the table. Everyone grinned creepily at the pair as silence filled the room.

"Excellent!" A thin redheaded woman finally said from the head of the table, garnering everyone's attention. "If everyone will open to page one of their reports we can begin to plan the Faberry wedding!" The woman's voice was high-pitched and nasally and her smile was as fake as her acrylic nails.

"Report?" Quinn whispered to Rachel, her eyebrow perched high. Indeed, in front of the half of dozen people around the table, and in front of Quinn and Rachel, were three-ring red binders.

"Faberry?" Rachel snorted back to the blonde with a disbelieving smile.

"Yeah, Faberry. The boys upstairs came up with that." A young man across from the girls smiled broadly. "Statistically speaking, in Hollywood, if your names blend flawlessly to create a portmanteau, you have an eighty-seven-point-five percent chance of making it over couples' names who don't match as well. Congratulations!" Quinn and Rachel traded unsure looks before smiling confusedly back at him.

"Yes, thank you Bradley." The red-head grinned as she opened her binder. "Back to the report. You have given us free reign over the wedding and we just wanted to check in so that you're both up to speed."

"That would be lovely." Rachel smiled and clasped her hand with Quinn's before settling them onto her lap. The blonde only nodded as she opened to page one of her report. The title: Decorations, was staring back at her.

An hour later, Rachel and Quinn were both frowning as they attempted to rub their headaches away. They were only done with section five of the twenty-five part report. So far they knew they were saddled with white flowers—roses, lilies, and daises—at their outdoor wedding and reception, a five tier French Vanilla cake—everyone swore up and down that it would vegan—live music—an up and coming boyband that had just been signed—and a guest list of over four hundred—celebrities were amongst the invitees, mixed in with their own friends and family. It was most certainly _not _their wedding, and clearly the wedding of two people who allowed a movie studio to plan it.

"This is a circus." Quinn mumbled to Rachel.

"Agreed." The diva grunted back.

"And I'm not entirely sure how you're going to pull this all off." Quinn asked the redhead with confusion. "Where in New York City are you going to be able to have an outdoor reception with this many people in attendance considering who _we _are?" She knew that the studio was paying the bill, she just didn't think they were going to go _all _out for them—they were practically nobodies.

Stacy—the redhead—was busy making notes as she answered Quinn. "That's because we aren't." She answered distractedly. Rachel shot a questioning look to Quinn.

"I'm sorry, I don't quite understand. I thought you said it would be cheaper if we didn't have the wedding in L.A. where it was originally planned?" The diva asked. Stacy sat up in her seat and capped her pen.

"We're not having the ceremony in New York, _or _L.A., I thought you knew." She said, her eyes on Malcolm at the far end of the table.

"Ladies, didn't you get my Tweet? We moved the wedding."

"No," Rachel said slowly. "We didn't receive it. Where did you move it to?" Every pair of eyes went back to Stacy, her head buried in her report once again as she flipped pages.

"Well," Stacy began. "Both L.A. and New York would be far too expensive. Frankly, _most _places would be far too expensive and since location was the one thing we hadn't spent money on yet, we thought we just be a little creative." She explained as she continued to flip through her notes. "Ah ha." She cheered. "Found it." Her smile was scary. "We did a little digging, you see, and thought what better place to have the wedding than where you two met and fell in love? Lima, Ohio. I'm sure you both are familiar." Her smile was playful, as though she just delivered sensational news.

Every pair of eyes waited for some reaction from the couple. They weren't disappointed.


	13. Chapter 13 Sweet Home, Ohio

Chapter Thirteen: Sweet Home, Ohio

_It was February fourteenth and the day after they had arrived home from Sundance. The trip had exhausted both girls but when they arrived in New York, they felt accomplished and enthusiastic about their futures. _

_They hadn't spoken about Valentine's Day, mostly because there wasn't much to talk about. The year before had been spent with Quinn making Rachel breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and Rachel writing a song to sing for Quinn over the homemade dessert the diva had made. Nothing fancy. _

_But this year, with the truth out, they both knew that they wanted to do something nice for the other, but also aware that it couldn't be too extravagant—Rachel would be a tad suspicious if Quinn spent thousands of dollars on the blue sailor dress from _Funny Girl _the diva always wanted and Quinn would be equally suspicious if Rachel sang one of the many songs she had written yet again about the blonde. _

_So Quinn was just going to cook for the diva and Rachel went to a secondhand store—despite the fact that she was thiiiis close to dropping a ton of money at a small boutique in Soho—to purchase a rather fashionable, yet sophisticated vintage briefcase for the blonde now that she was so successful. Nothing fancy. _

_Just like old times, Quinn arose early in the morning to make breakfast for Rachel and was standing at the foot of the bed, ready to wake the diva and present her with the meal before Rachel had to rush off to the theatre. But then the moaning started. _

_It was hardly the first sex dream Rachel had ever had about Quinn. It was just that, lately, the frequency of the erotic dreams had seemed to multiply until they were almost every night. Some were vivid. Some were blurry. Sometimes Rachel would just wake up with the sense that she was moments away from orgasm with no recollection as to why. This was one of those times; the kind Rachel hated and loved the most—hated, because she couldn't recall the probable hotness that ensued, loved; because the images wouldn't haunt her all day. _

_Quinn's eyebrow slowly rose as Rachel shifted in bed and groaned quietly. "Well good morning, Ms. Berry." Quinn purred to the sleeping girl as she held the tray of food in one hand, smirking smugly. Rachel shifted again, her full lips parted as she moaned, and twisted herself closer to Quinn's side of the bed, almost in anticipation. That's what Quinn hoped, at any rate. "Rachel," Quinn whispered, her volume so low it made it clear she was talking to the Rachel in the dream. "You don't know it yet, but I'm going to make all your dreams come true." _

_The blonde allowed herself another full minute to just watch the girl until she realized she was being incredibly creepy—also, (and more importantly because when Rachel Berry is in your bed moaning and withering, you let the girl continue) the diva's breakfast was getting cold—and sat on the edge of the bed to wake the girl._

_Rachel was completely startled out of her sleep when Quinn brushed her fingers through the girl's unruly hair. "Happy Valentine's Day, Rach!" Quinn greeted the girl brightly, loving how the diva's face was so flushed and she tried to get her bearings. _

_Rachel had missed the three-square meals courtesy of Quinn's cooking skills, and Quinn loved her new/old briefcase. They didn't get to spend too much time together because of their hectic day, but what time they did spend with one another was cherished; they were back to their regularly scheduled programming where they'd never get to see each other. _

_And later that night…"Quinn?" _

"_Hmmm?" _

"_It's weird…I feel like you were in my dream last evening, or more accurately, earlier this morning…" _

_Quinn chuckled to herself as she turned off the lights and crawled into bed next to Rachel. "I have no doubt I was, Rach. Happy Valentine's Day."_

_Rachel's brow knitted at the somewhat flirty nature of Quinn's tone. "Happy Valentine's Day." She answered back before she slumped against the mattress, still a little confused by the blonde. Not ten minutes later, after Quinn had already dropped off to dream-world, Rachel sat up ramrod straight in bed as she recalled a flicker of what had been in her dream. Smoky atmosphere, swirling lights, sultry music, and a sexy blonde situated underneath Rachel, as the diva grinded her hips down onto Quinn's. _

_Rachel's wide eyes glanced down at the girl beside her in worry. "I have the distinct impression that things are about to change." _

X

"We're not having the ceremony in New York, _or _L.A., I thought you knew." Stacy said, her eyes on Malcolm at the far end of the table.

"Ladies, didn't you get my Tweet? We moved the wedding."

"No," Rachel said slowly. "We didn't receive it. Where did you move it to?" Every pair of eyes went back to Stacy, her head buried in her report once again as she flipped pages.

"Well," Stacy began. "Both L.A. and New York would be far too expensive. Frankly, _most _places would be far too expensive and since location was the one thing we hadn't spent money on yet, we thought we just be a little creative." She explained as she continued to flip through her notes. "Ah ha." She cheered. "Found it." Her smile was scary. "We did a little digging, you see, and thought what better place to have the wedding than where you two met and fell in love? Lima, Ohio. I'm sure you both are familiar." Her smile was playful, as though she just delivered sensational news.

Every pair of eyes waited for some reaction from the couple. They weren't disappointed. Silence hung in the air for only a moment before it was invaded by simultaneous screams.

"Absooolutely not!"

"You are _out _of your minds!"

"There's no way in _hell _I'm going there!"

"I _vehemently _protest any and all proposals that include either Ohio and or Lima with regards to myself _and _my betrothed!"

"This deal is _off _and you can shove it up your-"

"Okay! Let's take a break, shall we?" Shiloh said as she stood, getting her coworkers' attentions away from the screaming, fuming girls. Rachel and Quinn's red faces were still pinched with anger as the tall brunette strode over to them. "Let's go." She said softly, inclining her head towards the door as she waited.

Rachel looked to Quinn and the blonde consented as she rose from her seat, offering a hand for Rachel before they followed behind Shiloh out the door, in to the hallway, and then to an empty office. The diva quickly took the comfortable leather chair behind the abandoned desk, and watched as her fiancée folded her arms and stood quietly against a wall. "We're not doing it." Quinn answered coldly, not looking up from the cream carpet as she addressed Shiloh.

The frustrated agent collapsed in to a stiff-back chair across from the blonde and sighed. "You know you have to."

"We don't have to do _anything_." Quinn spat out, finally looking at the woman.

"Of course you do. And I'm not just talking about the contract that you signed. I'm also referring to the fact that half your client list has pending projects attached to the studio. Quinn, you play ball with them, they play ball with you; it's as easy as that."

Rachel bit her lip as her eyes stayed trained on Quinn. After Quinn brokered the deal with Conduit Studios, the cast and crew for both _Which of You, I Love _and _A Date a Month_ signed Quinn as their agent. And because of her fostering relationship with the studio, Quinn then, in turn, started speaking with a few agents at Conduit about roles and projects for her clients.

"We'll do it." Rachel croaked. Quinn's head swiveled towards the diva, her mouth open and her eyes narrowed.

"Rach-"

"Ms. Shiloh is right, Quinn."

"We can get out of the deal-"

"I'm sure the contract has a loophole but our friends have projects with the studio and you don't want them to be blacklisted because we reneged on our deal with them."

Quinn looked away from Rachel's dark eyes as she fingered her cross necklace. Of course Rachel was right, but Quinn was prepared to lose her friends as clients in favor of _not _going to Lima. "And besides, Quinn, it won't be that bad."

The blonde looked back at Rachel with a smile of disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

Rachel shrugged as she placed both feet up on the desk and spun left to right a few times. "My fathers will be thrilled, we'd get to spend more time with Mercedes, and I'd like to check in on the glee club."

Quinn laughed loudly as she raked her nails through her hair. "You want the wedding in Lima just as much as I do, Rach."

"Well…I vowed on graduation day never to return and I've kept my promise. Except for that _one_ time." Rachel sing-songed with a smile. "And we'll both know how lovely _that_ turned out." Quinn's stoic eyes found Rachel's and she smiled at the mirth she found—both silently remembering Rachel rescuing Quinn.

"You're _really _okay with this?" Quinn eventually asked gravely. Rachel leaned back in the chair and folded her arms behind her head as she smiled.

"I don't know. It sounds kind of…_splendid_ now that I've had time to consider."

"Splendid?" Quinn asked with a grin.

"Well, Quinn, I'm starring in a Broadway show, two successful movies, and I'm marrying the Prom Queen. I'd say I'm fairing well. If there were ever a time I'd go back to Lima, now would be it." Quinn had started laughing right after Rachel said "starring," and only laughed harder after "Prom Queen."

Quinn looked at Shiloh and shrugged as she rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I guess we're getting married in Lima." Shiloh sighed in relief and got to her feet.

"Then let's finish this meeting." Quinn held out her hand for Rachel to take as the diva made her way towards the door. The blonde squeezed her hand and Rachel returned her smile as they made their way back to the boardroom.

It was an easy choice for Rachel to make. She knew how important it was for Quinn's career to go along with whatever Conduit wanted. In her mind, however, she knew that changes would have to be made. No way in _hell _was she going to be a part of the white trash wedding Conduit had put together. If everything was going to be on the studio's dime, she'd just have to come up with a few quarters and some nickels to put a Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray spin on the day. It was _their _wedding after all, and they were prepared to pay for it before the studio got involved.

Stacy grinned tersely as the three women made their way into the room and sat. "Everything settled then?" She asked Shiloh. The agent just nodded. "Wonderful. Next I'd like to talk a little about the look of the wedding and the exact date."

"We've already gone over decorations." Quinn glowered, not wanting to spend a minute more in the office if she could help it.

"Yes, but I was referring more to the overall appearance for the cameras."

"Which means _what _exactly?" Rachel placed a calming hand on Quinn's thigh and the blonde frowned, annoyed that Rachel wanted her to play nice. Quinn didn't particularly feel like being nice to the people that were telling her what to do.

"The guest list, wedding party, the theme..."

"You have our guest list and wedding party, and I thought the theme was spring?" Rachel asked, looking puzzled.

"Well…the guest list is fine. The exact date of the wedding will be March twelfth to accommodate your breaks from school. I believe you both know that, yes?" The girls nodded. "All that is fine. The wedding party, however…"

"What's wrong with the wedding party?"

Stacy seemed a little hesitant, purely an act, Rachel presumed, before the redhead sat up and steepled her fingers. "It's just that…the two…_coworkers _of yours, Quinn, aren't exactly camera-ready." Quinn's eyebrow rose as Rachel leaned forward.

"I'm sorry? Camera-ready?"

"And Rachel…Jesse is a brilliant actor by all accounts…however…"

"However, _what_?" Rachel asked with a frown.

"We had a focus group come in to test out the visuals. Ninety percent agreed that Quinn wouldn't be friends with two…um…_them_…and hundred percent of the group thought that Jesse St. James seemed more like an adversary to Quinn and an ex-boyfriend with a bad past in regards to Rachel. I'm sorry…but they're going to have to go."

"Excuse me?" Quinn gritted out as she sat straighter in her chair, completely shocked that their wedding party was being dictated to them.

The young man, Brad, across from the girls cleared his throat. "When everyone heard what Jesse did to Rachel in high school, they were irate. They found his friendship with Rachel to be fake and a way for him to split you two up. They didn't like him."

Rachel shook her head in disbelief and went to share a look with Quinn, only to find the blonde smirking. "What's that smug expression for, Quinn Fabray?"

The blonde chuckled as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Jesse didn't test well in the focus group." Quinn's eyebrow rose as she shrugged. "That's funny."

"Well they didn't like Lydia and Jeremy either." Rachel answered with a pout.

"They'll be thrilled; they don't like getting dressed up and they hate cameras." Rachel rolled her eyes at the predictability before she turned back to Stacy.

"So what does this mean?"

"Well, they loved Mercedes. Her back-story with Quinn really tested well and they liked her fiery personality." Quinn covered her face with her hands as she shook from laughter; the whole conversation was just too insane. "But they felt that Rachel's relationship with her Julliard friends wasn't personal enough; they want a deeper connection."

"This is _absurd_! _Why _are we allowing a focus group to dictate who we have in _our_ wedding?"

"I think that is a good segue into the theme!" Stacy beamed as she flipped to a new page in her binder, hoping to avoid anymore arguments. "Dan, think you could field this one?" The redhead asked the man to her left.

Dan grinned broadly and Rachel rolled her eyes at his boyish act and the fact that Quinn was still laughing. "Since the wedding will be the second half of the televised special, the first half will be spent introducing the public to your relationship; how you met, fell in love, the pre-wedding stuff, so on and so forth. Basically, what we're going for is a theme that sums you two up."

"Please continue." Rachel said over Quinn's laughing. The blonde was still covering her face as she allowed the outrageousness to go on.

"The _theme_," Dan said louder, trying to speak over Quinn's hysterics. "Will be glee club. It's where you got to know one another and since you, Ms. Berry, are celebrated for your singing, we thought it would be perfect. The focus group loved the idea because it humanized you both and made it into more of a love story."

"I can already see it in my head," Stacy said dreamily as she reclined in her chair and closed her eyes. "Establishing shot of the town and high school, interior shot of the choir room, stock footage of old performances…and then…a close-up of a picture of the two of you from your glee club days before we fade to white in to the present. It has romance written all over it." The woman quickly turned to her right. "Make a note that we'll need B-role of Ms. Berry rehearsing for _Wink and a Nod, _both of them on their university campuses, and Ms. Fabray dog walking." The redhead sighed as she bounced back in her chair. "This thing practically writes itself."

Rachel rubbed her head as she saw tears start to trail down Quinn's face. "That's all well and good, everyone, but did you _test _the back-story of Quinn and my relationship in high school?" Rachel ground out before shooting another eye roll to the laughing blonde beside her.

"They think that it's the perfect love story: popular repressed girl falls in love with the school's outcast; her polar opposite." Rachel huffed as Quinn's laughter grew in volume; the blonde found it hilarious that her life had just been perfectly summed up in one sentence. "Audiences love an underdog story, Ms. Berry, and yours is the perfect parable."

"Fine. Whatever. Please explain how our wedding party is a perfect segue for the glee theme?" Rachel asked, drumming her fingernails on the table top to give her frustration an outlet.

Stacy's pleased-as-punch smile was back and it didn't bode well as far as Rachel was concerned. Her instincts had been correct. "Because the glee club _is _your wedding party." Quinn doubled over in laughter and slapped the mahogany table several times before she rocketed back in her chair, holding her stomach with one hand, mopping up tears with the other.

"What the _hell _does that mean?" Rachel fumed beside the blonde, half out of her chair in anger.

"We thought Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce would make the perfect bridesmaids alongside Mercedes Jones. Although we did like the idea of incorporating some men into the party; balance things out a bit."

"Balance?" Rachel barked.

"Well, Santana will be the maid of honor and-"

Rachel threw up her arms and asked the question the laughing blonde probably wasn't concerned with at the moment due to her fit. "What about Mercedes?"

"Well…while the audience liked Mercedes' personality and Quinn's relationship with her…audiences felt that _Santana _would be a bit more…camera-friendly." _Oh, hell to the no_, Rachel thought with a sneer. "So Santana will walk down first, _then _Mercedes, and then Ms. Pierce."

"And _my _wedding party?"

"Well that's where the balance comes in! We thought three girls for Quinn, three boys for you!"

"And who exactly _will _be in my wedding party?" Rachel asked through her clenched jaw.

"Here they are: Everyone loves a sassy gay best friend, so Kurt Hummel will be your best man, Noah Puckerman is _very _camera-friendly, if his high school yearbook photo is any indication, and Finn Hudson who is-" Suddenly, Quinn was no longer laughing. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it!_

"Oh you have GOT to be kidding me!" Rachel roared as she jumped up, knocking her chair over as she slammed her palms on the table. Both Quinn and Shiloh were on their feet and dragging Rachel out of the room and in to the empty office as the diva slung a slew of profanities Stacy's way.

"This is an OUTRAGE! Finn Hudson will be at MY wedding the day Barbra Streisand gives a bad performance!"

"I know, Rach, calm down, we'll figure this out." Quinn soothed as she watched Rachel pace.

"Don't you care at all? Aren't you upset about this?"

"Can you give us a moment, please?" Quinn hissed to Shiloh. The agent nodded and exited the room quickly. Once Quinn was sure they were alone, she took Rachel's shoulders in her hands and halted her pacing. "Rachel, look at me."

The diva hesitantly glanced up and sighed deeply. "First of all, there's no way Finn tested well with the focus group and I'm going to demand a recount." A hint of a smile appeared on the diva's lips at the amusement on the blonde's face. "Second of all, there's no way he's going to go to the wedding, never mind _be _in the damn thing. Do you honestly believe _Finn Hudson_ would willingly stand by and watch the two of _us _get married? I don't think so." Rachel chuckled a little at the truth of it. "We'll talk to them and see what's going on, hear them out."

"I don't want our wedding to be white trashy, Quinn." The blonde nodded slowly as she caught Rachel's eye and smiled.

"Me either, superstar."

"Charlene will fight them, right?"

"Yes. They'll pay for all the big stuff and we'll take care of the rest."

"Aren't you upset about Mercedes not being your maid of honor?"

"Yes, but she'll be even more upset. I'm pretty sure we'll see a Mercedes/Santana smack down and I for one am looking forward to it." Rachel laughed along with Quinn before she sighed and fixed her skirt.

"This is turning out to be a real labor of love." Rachel grunted. It was Quinn's turn to sigh as she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.

"I know," The blonde whispered and then rolled her eyes. "I'm not even entirely sure how we got here."

"I think it was a string of lies that morphed into the biggest web one can imagine."

"I don't regret anything though, do you?" Quinn asked quietly as she gazed at the diva. Rachel was silent as she considered.

"It's kind of hard to regret something that has turned in to the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I agree." Quinn answered with a slow smile. Rachel ducked her head and smiled as well, glad that she had Quinn through it all. It was getting hard to keep track of what she could control in her life and what she couldn't. But she knew that having Quinn beside her made it bearable. Everything constantly felt surreal and the blonde's presence grounded her.

"So, what do we do?" Rachel asked eventually.

"We go in there and here them out. I'm actually extremely excited to hear what other crazy ideas they have." Quinn answered playfully as she knocked shoulders with Rachel. Quinn had actually given up on caring about the whole wedding day idea. In the past, she always thought the day would be akin to marching in front of a firing squad. She imagined everything being pristine and cold. And the biggest dread of all; standing next to a man she didn't love. Now it seemed that everything was the complete opposite of the day she feared. The wedding was set to be the biggest spectacle ever in Lima's history, but at least she would be standing next to Rachel. Everything else…kind of didn't matter.

And besides, Quinn reasoned, until Rachel was honest about her feelings, the whole day was pretty much just a dress rehearsal; a staged event. It would be like walking down the red carpet; she'd go through the motions, do what she had to do to help Rachel and the rest of her friends, and then go back to her life with the diva.

Quinn was silent as she watched confusion wash over Rachel's face suddenly. "_Noah_ and _Finn_ were better than Jesse?" Rachel asked bemusedly. Quinn smiled as she shook her head.

"I wouldn't go that far. At least Jesse isn't so terrible now. Finn on the other hand…God what I wouldn't give to just…just…" Quinn's face scrunched up as her hands gripped mid-air.

"I'm not entirely sure what you're doing, but thank you for doing it nonetheless." Rachel laughed.

"Hey," Quinn said, getting Rachel to turn around before she could leave the office. "This is by far the ideal situation. And I hate that this day is being influenced by so many different people except the two people it should be affecting the most-"

"I feel as though you're about to apologize, Quinn, and really, it's _me _that should be apologizing to you."

"Rachel-"

"No," The diva said, holding up her hand and slowly approaching the blonde. "We decided to get married so I'd get the roll in _Wink and a Nod_. Now we're letting this ridiculous studio dictate our own day _just _so my films can get the proper publicity. This isn't you. You're not about _any _of this. But you're doing it. And you've barely batted an eyelash! You've been so amazing-"

"Rachel, stop! I want you to be successful and this is such a small price to pay for that-"

"There are other ways. We can still call this off!"

"You know we can't and I don't want to. Matt is actually getting to write a screenplay, Zach is going to play the best friend in a romantic comedy, Chris might direct that depressing movie he's so excited about, and you are going to be on thousands of movie screens all over the place while living your dream on stage. And it's not like I'm not making out on this deal either. And all because I get to marry my best friend, Rachel, I honestly don't see it as a hardship."

Rachel exhaled slowly as she tried to fight off that annoying weight of love she felt for the blonde. "But, Quinn-"

"We're in this together." Quinn interrupted. "We're in this _together_." She repeated slowly for emphases.

"Together." Rachel echoed.

"Nothing else matters."

"No." The diva whispered as she shook her head.

Quinn moved closer and cupped Rachel's cheek. "At the end of the day, when all the dust settles, we'll be with one another."

"We will." Rachel sighed and closed her eyes briefly before opening them to stare at the blonde. "Then it makes it all worth it."

"Exactly. Together, we'll get through this. Even if they want Finn Hudson to marry us, it won't matter." Rachel laughed as she placed her palm over her head.

"My goodness, this is mad."

"Can I ask why your reaction was so…passionate when you heard Finn's name?"

Rachel snorted loudly before she looked up at Quinn. "It wasn't just Finn." Quinn's eyebrow quirked and Rachel rolled her eyes. "Do you _really _think I want Noah Puckerman, father of your child, man-whore extraordinaire, standing next to me at the altar? The _same _Noah Puckerman that was in love with you senior year? I wouldn't put it passed him to flirt _violently_ with you."

"Oh, he will." Quinn said as she shook her head with a smile. "Will it bother you?"

Startled brown eyes glanced up to meet Quinn's intense stare. "It-it- yes…no. I just- it would make things rather uncomfortable, and…I just, I mean…I _do _worry that you'd be influenced or…_persuaded _to- not that I believe you're deceiving me, I just feel-"

Quinn sighed heavily as she forced a smile to appear; she _really _didn't want to fight with Rachel and her deep-seeded denial at that moment, not when she needed the diva to get through the rest of the meeting. "It's fine, Rachel." The diva's mouth clamped just as she nodded. "Let's just get through this."

They were back in the empty office only two minutes later.

"Sue freaking Sylvester is NOT marrying us, Shiloh!"

"Is she even licensed so do this? This is absolutely illogical!"

"Of all the _insane_ plans you people have come up with-"

"Guys, come on. Take a deep breath!" Shiloh said as she held up her hands. "She came to _us_. We were scouting locations at the high school and she approached us and wanted to know what was going on. We told her and she jumped at the opportunity. She _is _licensed, although she's only performed at one ceremony-"

"_Yeah_, her _own_!" Quinn hissed.

"But she was your cheerleading coach for four years, Quinn, she said she saw you as a daughter-figure, she had some fun, colorful insight on Rachel-"

"Oh I'll _bet_!"

"_And _she's well-known! She's a great personality and the perfect person to marry you considering all your history!"

"This is…this is just- this is just nuts!" Rachel inarticulately declared as she threw up her hands.

"I understand where you're coming from but we've already compromised on the wedding party so-"

Rachel whirled around to face the woman. "Compromised? _How _did _you_ compromise? All you simply said was that if Finn Hudson declines to be involved you'd alternate him with Mike Chang!"

"We feel that he's a good compromise!"

"Oh, that's right, because Matt Rutherford looks better _behind _the camera and he doesn't really count because he was only in glee club for one year! It doesn't matterthat he's one of my close friends and I have recently worked with him! And Artie would look bad on camera because of the 'handicap thing', so naturally _he's _out. But _Sam: _Ken-to-my-fiancée's-Barbie would be a _fine _alternate if anyone else dropped out! You don't seem to mind that not _one _of these people is in our lives and that _most _of them treated me horribly in high school and _also _treated my fiancée dreadfully!"

"Leave!" Quinn barked over her shoulder to Shiloh before she turned towards Rachel. "Let's just take a minute." Quinn whispered as he slipped behind Rachel and slowly started to massage her tense shoulders. "Close your eyes. That's it, take deeeep breaths. You're doing great. Now…imagine your happy place-"

"You're mocking me, aren't you?" Rachel deadpanned, but kept her eyes closed nonetheless. Quinn chuckled slightly before she wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck from behind and hugged the girl to her front,

"Just go with it, Berry." Rachel huffed but felt the tension start to drain as she stood in Quinn's arms. "Imagine a _beautiful _wedding day-"

"One that Charlene planned and _not _these barbarians."

Quinn's breathy chuckle echoed in Rachel's ear as the blonde rested her chin on Rachel's shoulder. "Exactly. There are candles everywhere and flowers. Your fathers are smiling and all our friends are dancing and laughing." Quinn whispered and smiled when she saw the telltale signs that Rachel was starting to relax. "And oh my, goodness, who's that over there? Rachel, Barbra Streisand is at our wedding!"

Rachel giggled and lightly slapped one of the arms around her neck before she quickly sobered; tilting her head but her eyes remained closed. "Quinn…do you really think Barbra would go?"

Quinn laughed softly as she tightened her grip around Rachel. "I think if she's not too busy, she'd love to."

"We should send her a handwritten invitation. I've always found that people are more receptive to requests when there is a personal flair to them." Quinn nodded against Rachel's shoulder slowly.

"We'll get right on that."

"She will most certainly balance out the young, up-and-coming actors and musicians who will be attending our wedding at the prodding of their managerial team in the hopes of getting publicity."

"She'll class the place up."

"Absolutely. And we're perfectly certain that Tom Cruise will be filming in the Fiji Islands and will be unable to attend?"

Quinn laughed again before nodding. "Believe me, Rach, I triple checked." Quinn highly doubted Tom Cruise would be at their wedding even if he would be free. But she liked humoring Rachel. She really did triple check, though…just in case.

Rachel sighed as her eyes slowly flickered open and she turned in Quinn's arms. "Thank you." She whispered with a smile and brought the blonde in for a hug. They held each other close as Quinn ran her fingers through Rachel's hair comfortingly.

"I think Sylvester is going to be hilarious." Against her, Rachel started shaking with silent laughter.

"I foresee massive amounts of alcohol consumption in my wedding-day future."

"We'll be okay."

Rachel sighed deeply and hugged Quinn closer. "I know. But can we go home now?"

"Sure." Quinn whispered with a smile. "On one condition."

Rachel huffed loudly and stomped her foot. "I swear I will _not _being singing _Party in the USA _again on the way home, Quinn! I already explained that it only works _landing _in L.A.!"

Quinn held her hands up, palms out in surrender. "I'm just making sure."

X

Mercedes leaned up against her car and popped her gum loudly as she scanned the front of the Dayton International Airport. It was an early flight and not too many people were leaving the terminal, however, she couldn't spot Quinn and Rachel. She briefly noted a tall, slim, redhead with big sunglasses and a trendy trench coat before she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Where the hell are they?"

Yawning loudly and rubbing her tired eyes, Mercedes shifted where she stood before taking out her cell phone. She found the number she was looking for and hit send but it went to voicemail. Scrolling down to the next name, Mercedes repeated her previous action and waited. Not far away, the sounds of a cell phone began to play but Mercedes' shoulders dropped when it was a small blonde with curly hair just answering her phone.

"_Mercedes?" _Rachel whispered.

"Rach? Where are you guys? I'm out front."

"_Yes, we see you. We'll be right there." _

"I don't see _you_." Mercedes drawled out, but she was met with silence. She sucked her teeth indigently. "Why'd you go and hang up on me…" She grumbled before she rolled her eyes and got into her car. If Rachel and Quinn could see her, she wasn't waiting outside looking for them when it was cold and dreary.

Mercedes jumped slightly in the front seat when a car door slammed—she had been only resting her eyes—and when she looked in her review mirror, she screamed. "What the _hell _do you think you're doing in my car? Do I _look _like a freaking taxi driver to you?" Mercedes yelled as she spun around in her seat to snap at the two unknown women who just got in. "I'ma beat _both _your asses before I call the-" The words died on her lips now that she got a better look at the two women. At first glance they were the tall redhead in the trench coat and the short blonde with the curly hair. Now that she really saw them, Mercedes threw back her head and laughed.

"You can stop, you know." Quinn said in the back seat with an eyebrow lifted and a simmering smile.

"Oh, no I can't." Mercedes laughed before retrieving her phone. "Smile." Rachel beamed as Quinn rolled her eyes and Mercedes snapped away. "Oh this is too good."

"We don't want anyone to know we're here yet." Quinn mumbled as she settled back in the seat. "S_omebody _let slip that we'd be arriving in Lima today, so, hence the disguises."

"I object!" Rachel proclaimed, slightly offended.

"On what grounds, Rach?" Quinn asked as she crossed her arms over her chest and attempted to blow her red bangs out of her face.

"It was _Good Morning America _and Robin Roberts is a heroine and a goddess and I could _not_, in all good conscience, lie to her."

"The point is, the studio's camera crews are crawling all over Lima and we'd rather subtly make our presence known instead of seeing everyone for the first time in years with paparazzi trailing." The disguises had been Rachel's idea, but Quinn was more than happy to don the look if it meant that they were flying under the radar.

"I caught that _Good Morning_, Rach. It was so cool that they interviewed you separately from the rest of the cast to talk about your movies. And you looked _fierce_." Mercedes nodded as she pulled out of the lot.

"Thank you, Mercedes. Quinn dressed me." Mercedes chuckled as she shook her head.

"I _bet _she did." In the back seat, Rachel blushed deeply but Quinn only smirked.

"I sure did. We had a quickie in the Green room, didn't we, Rach?" Rachel flushed further as Mercedes continued to laugh.

"Quinn?" The diva whispered, completely thrown by Quinn's comment. But the blonde only shrugged innocently.

_That's right, Rachel Berry, meet your demise. _

_She has no idea what we have planned. _

_She is so out of her league. _

_We have exactly five days before we're married and in that time, I'll be damned if I let her keep denying her feelings. _

_Cue evil laugh. _

_Mission Make Rachel Berry Come is underway and with all of the gleeks around, she'll be forced to play along. _

"Aw, Rach. Don't be shy; it's just Mercedes." Quinn smiled down at the diva as she wrapped her arms around the girl.

"I'm so excited for the wedding, guys! I can't wait to _see_ everyone, and be your _maid of honor_, and _dance_, and _drink_, and eat all the expensive studio wedding food!"

Rachel and Quinn glanced at one another awkwardly. "You didn't tell her Santana is your maid of honor now?" Rachel whispered in Quinn's ear. Quinn winced and shook her head.

"I didn't want to hurt her."

Rachel nodded. "Best to let the studio do it…or Santana."

"Explain to me again why the hell Puck and Finn are better choices over Jesse St. James? _How'd _they test better? You know…since _both _of you dated them and everything." Mercedes laughed. It never failed to amuse her how everything had turned out.

Rachel scoffed and rested her head against Quinn's tense shoulder. "The studio believes that since Jesse is still very much in our lives in New York, the public will see him more as a threat. They are conveniently glossing over Noah and Quinn's past relationship because there is no record of Beth-"

"And it's going to stay that way." Quinn gritted.

"Yes. And as far as they are concerned, Finn's dopey smile is enough for viewers to believe that he's just a swell guy. Luckily he has declined involvement."

"Lucky for _him_." Quinn murmured.

"So Mike's in and Finn's out. At least there's that." Mercedes commented with a shrug. "Well Kurt is over the moon. When are we getting fitted for our dresses?" Mercedes asked from the front as she changed lanes.

"Tomorrow morning, bright and early." Mercedes groaned loudly.

"These early mornings are a real pain in my ass, Q."

"I know, I'm sorry. Tomorrow is going to be a nightmare with dealing with everything."

"For the most part, the studio and Charlene have everything taken care of. We just have to do interviews and photo ops and sign on the dotted line and blah blah blah blah. I'm exhausted just thinking about it!"

"It will be fine, Rach. We'll get through it." Quinn soothed as she held the girl closer.

"Quinn said the premiere of _Wink and a Nod _went well, Rach; raves reviews and all that for your killer performance. And I'm totally taking a trip up so you have to save me a ticket." Rachel smiled in the back seat as she ducked her head shyly.

"Thank you, Mercedes. We'd be more than happy to accommodate. Just let us know when you'd like to visit."

"And ohhhh my, God!" Mercedes gushed. "Did I _tell _you about going to see _Which of You, I Love _with Kurt? The boy lost his mind when he saw you, Rach."

"How insane did she look?" Quinn laughed as she ruffled Rachel's blonde wig and smiled down fondly at the blushing diva.

"Girl, the _things _you said to that doctor! I damn near lost it too and Quinn even prepared me!" The girl chuckled.

"So…Mercedes…" Rachel began uncomfortably. "Have you spoken to anyone? About…Quinn and I yet?"

Mercedes was laughing again, deep and thunderous. "Let's just put it this way," Mercedes began, still chuckling. "You're about to get _quite _a welcome."

"We haven't exactly gotten around to speaking with everyone."

"What Rachel is trying to say is that we _really _aren't looking forward to facing them." Quinn sighed wearily at the thought.

Mercedes rumbled with laughter and glanced into the review mirror to look at the two girls. "When Kurt called me when he got the invitation...boy didn't know up or down."

Rachel and Quinn both winced. "I'm sure he had _much _to say."

"Are you kidding? I spent four hours on the phone with him, listening to him deconstruct all of high school. Every fight you two had, every time you played musical boys, duets, name calling—finally I just had to come clean and tell him what I knew to shut him up."

"Was he angry at you for keeping it a secret?" Quinn bit her lip, hoping it wouldn't cause trouble for Mercedes' friendship with the boy.

But the girl just rolled her eyes. "Eventually he got over it. He demanded your cell numbers but I made it pretty clear where you both stand."

"Thanks, Mercedes."

"Yes, thank you." The car grew quiet as Quinn and Rachel exchanged glances. Lying to the media was one thing. But lying to Kurt Hummel was quite another. Neither girl thought they could withstand his interrogation without coming clean about _everything_.

They knew it was cold, but they were letting the studio handle delivering the news of the wedding to each one of the gleeks. They had only spoken to Mercedes and Matt about the wedding. But it was on their list of things to do. Sooner or later they'd have to face the music.

X

"Do I look okay? Can you tell it's me?"

"Yes."

"Well of course _you _can, but do you think we can get past the film crew and go unnoticed?"

Quinn bit her lip as she eyed the door. "I don't know, Rach. Is this a good idea?"

Rachel huffed as she fixed her makeup in the vanity mirror. "I'm certain. Left to his own devices, Mr. Schuester has probably turned glee club into a Bee Gee's, White Snake orgy of some kind." Quinn chuckled as she watched Rachel prep and then sighed in resignation.

_This _was _not _what Quinn had in mind on how she wanted to spend their first day off in several months. After Mercedes had dropped them off and they thanked her, they had retreated into the empty Berry household once giving the two-story home the once over—silently remembering the last time they had both been there together. After quickly unpacking, Quinn had dove in to Rachel's bed and seductively asked the diva how she wanted to spend the day. She was hoping Rachel would suggest a nap. Maybe a long, hot shower or bath. Quinn would then, in turn, slowly start putting the moves on the diva. Maybe a glass of wine or two to truly relax and unwind; anything in an attempt to get Rachel to open up.

But once she had finished her own unpacking, Rachel eyed the blonde in her bed and knew that she couldn't be in the room with Quinn—where it all began—when the house was empty—her fathers were at work. So, instead of rising to Quinn's tempting bait, Rachel fixed her blonde wig and smiled brightly. _"I have just the thing." _

_Just the thing_ turned out to be a field trip to McKinley. Rachel seemed dead-set on actually checking up on the glee club in an effort to further avoid meeting with each gleek and additional alone time with the suddenly puzzling blonde.

It was most unlike Quinn to make sexual innuendos like she had in Mercedes' car or like she had done Valentine's Day evening. Furthermore, as a rule, Quinn Fabray didn't flirt, especially when it was just the two of them; unless she wanted something from you—"under the shirt over the bra"? Yeah, Rachel hadn't forgotten that, and she hadn't even been on the receiving end of the temptation! If she had, Rachel would have probably dropped out of glee—she was still unsure how Finn had withstood. Also, Rachel reasoned as they drove to the school, Quinn was even more touchy feely than usual. It was subtle, minuscule difference, but her affections were far more intimate. It was one thing for Quinn to kiss her cheek when they were around their friends and quite another for the blonde to hold her tightly for an extended length of time.

The thing that plagued Rachel the most, however, was how Quinn behaved during Utah. Her fake engagement ring? Absolutely baffling. And Rachel wasn't blind to the way Quinn acted during her interviews; the blonde seemed hypnotized by Rachel. Add her near constant sex dreams to the mix, and Rachel was slightly wary.

"Okay," Rachel beamed. "Let's go!" Quinn stared, not at all surprised, when Rachel all but tucked and rolled out of the car and ran, hunched over, towards the school's side entrance. When Quinn finally caught up, Rachel held the door open for the blonde and frowned. "Considering the social climate of schools, you'd think they'd keep these doors locked."

They didn't register at the main office, but instead, sneaked down the empty hallways as classrooms buzzed with the white noise of teachers' lectures. So much had changed since the last time they had been in Lima. Rachel and Quinn were now, for lack of a better word, famous. Not throngs-of-screaming-fans-chasing-them-down famous, but definitely recognizable-especially-in-Lima famous. That became apparent the second they drove over Lima's city limits and saw the "Welcome Back Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray!" sign; it was obviously there just because the film crews were. Surprisingly, Rachel didn't seem too thrilled with the display—just like Quinn. Their lack of enthusiasm was for two different reasons, but they were united under the common goal of staying out of sight.

"Oh, wow." Quinn breathed out as they stepped into the choir room. She wasn't sure why she was so surprised to find it exactly how she had left it—it had only been a little under two years—but the familiar smells and sights made her smile.

"It terrifies me that this room is exactly the same. I thought for sure, by now, they would have expanded. This is why we needed to come back, Quinn. We're donating money; I'm glad I brought my checkbook."

Quinn dropped Rachel's hand as she slowly entered the room to take it all in. "There are more chairs." The blonde noticed. "A lot more."

"Hmmm. Perhaps Mr. Schue was able to procure more members." Rachel reasoned as she inspected the sheet music on the piano. The diva scoffed as she read the artist at the top. "This is _exactly _what I was afraid of, Quinn. He's got them singing _Hotel California_. That's _hardly _the right song for a performance!"

Quinn's eyes were too busy racing over the empty chairs on the risers. She smiled fondly as she remembered sitting in each position. "I remember this one day," Quinn started as she headed for the last row at the top of the riser. She smoothed the back of her dress as she took a seat. "It was one of our first meetings at the start of senior year and you sat right in front of me. Every other seat was open and you sat _right _in front of me. Why'd you do that?" Quinn asked, her mind far away as she remembered. At the time, she had been slightly annoyed. Of all the gin joints and all that. She could smell Rachel's perfume and it had made her lightheaded.

"You told me to move." Rachel whispered as she took the seat in front of Quinn.

"I think I said something a little crueler, actually." The blonde whispered back as her fingers instantly started twirling Rachel's long hair under her wig.

"It's funny," Rachel said as she leaned back into Quinn's touch. "You always made it somewhat clear where we stood." _Unlike now_, Rachel thought with a sigh.

Quinn reached out and took Rachel's hand before guiding the diva out of her seat. "Come sit up here with me." Quinn smiled. Rachel went to take the chair next to Quinn's but the blonde guided her down on her lap. "Here's better." With wide eyes, Rachel sat and avoided Quinn's stare in favor for the empty choir room.

_That's it, Quinn, slowly show her you want more. _

_Small hints, little gestures; make her understand. _

"How are you feeling about tomorrow's interviews?" Quinn asked as she discreetly inhaled the scent of Rachel. Her nose skimmed Rachel's neck and the diva fumbled over her words.

"Um…fine. I'm almost certain that I can handle an interview." Rachel mumbled with a breathy chuckle.

"There's just a lot to keep straight."

"Quinn, I'm a professional." Quinn chuckled as she looked up at Rachel through long lashes.

"So you can remember to say in the interview that we started dating secretly at the end of high school, fell in love, and escaped Lima to live out our lives together?" Rachel bit her lip and cleared her throat as she forced her gaze away from Quinn and her sexy eyebrow.

"I believe that's easy enough to recall, yes." Rachel nodded slowly as she fidgeted on Quinn's lap.

"And how exactly, Ms. Berry, did your courtship with the insanely attractive Ms. Fabray begin?"

Rachel laughed and smiled down at the blonde. "Well, Mr or Ms Interviewer, it happened one night when Quinn and I were working hard on a glee project. Our eyes met across the piano and the air thickened with tension. The rest, as they say, is history."

"Very good." Quinn nodded firmly with a smile. It was the story they had invented and would stick to. The room suddenly filled with ringing. "I suppose school is over for the day." Quinn sighed. "I don't miss high school."

"Nor I." Rachel giggled. "Being famous is so much better."

"Absolutely." Rachel suddenly sighed wistfully as she played with the hem of her shirt.

"I'm afraid that I'll need to cut back my courses at Julliard. The strain is starting to get to me."

Quinn rubbed Rachel's back soothingly. "I've noticed."

"I don't want the musical to interfere with my studies, however-" The sounds of laughter cut Rachel off as it proceeded closer to the room. "What day is it?" Rachel asked fearfully as she glanced at the mounted clock on the wall.

"Oh shit!" Quinn cursed as she realized what Rachel was getting out. Rachel slid off of the blonde's lap just as a group of four boys entered the choir room. They all glanced curiously at the redhead and shorthaired blonde before they took their seats in the front row and continued chatting. Closely behind them, three girls entered, one wearing a Cheerios uniform, before they too took a chair.

"We should go." Quinn muttered to Rachel quickly, half rising out of her seat.

"Too late." Rachel squeaked as Will Schuester entered the room with a boy and a girl at his side, deep in conversation. As subtly as possible, both girls slinked down in their chairs as more students filed into the room.

"Are you seeing this?" Quinn asked, stunned, as dozens and dozens of students filled the seats around them. The students ranged from jocks and Cheerios to loners and everyone in between.

Rachel frowned as she counted. "Wow."

A petite blonde took the seat just beside Rachel and placed down her bag silently. Rachel cleared her throat and addressed the girl. "Excuse me?" Quinn chuckled in to her palm over Rachel's fake accent; clearly the diva didn't want to be recognized. The girl turned and took in the two strangers. "Why is glee club so crowded? I was under the distinct impression that it wasn't exactly the coolest of clubs to join."

The girl frowned in confusion as her eyes danced between Quinn and Rachel. Both girls looked familiar, she just couldn't put her finger on what classes she may have had with them. "Well, no one wants to be stuck in this town." The girl answered flatly.

"Yes, I appreciate the ideal, however, how would one benefit the notion by means of glee club?" The student blinked rapidly as she tried to process what exactly Rachel had just said.

"Um…Rachel Berry, Quinn Fabray, and Matt Rutherford. They were all in glee club and now they're all famous. Duh." The girl directed her attention to the front of the room as Rachel's wide eyes met Quinn's.

"Did you hear that?" Rachel mouthed, completely blown away. Quinn nodded slowly, stunned as well. Soon, Will was clapping his hands over the loud chatter of the students and smiling broadly.

"Okay, guys, settle down. We have a lot to do today." Quinn leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on her knees as she felt like she was being transported back in time. Beside her, Rachel sat perched on her seat as though she was ready to make a suggestion.

"Hey," Quinn whispered to distract the diva. "Did I ever tell you about my sex dream?" That did it.

Rachel's head whipped around at an alarming speed that made Quinn bit her lip in amusement.

"Your _what?_" Rachel whispered back with saucer-like eyes. Quinn giggled and leaned closer to Rachel so the boys in front of them wouldn't hear.

"I had this reoccurring dream in high school about this back wall." Quinn whispered as she nodded towards the wall directly behind them.

Rachel swallowed thickly as she bobbed her head. She had the same dream. "Oh?"

"Every time I had one, I couldn't sit in the back row the next day." Quinn laughed softly. She watched as Rachel swallowed with difficulty and moved closer to the diva as Will babbled away at the front of the room. "The first time it happened, I had actually fallen asleep during practice while I was pregnant." Rachel nodded once, silently asking Quinn to continue, as the blonde practically purred in her ear. "I was sitting right where you are actually. And when you're pregnant, your dreams are so much more vivid."

"_Really_." Rachel breathed out in a flutter of air.

Quinn licked her lips and scooted closer to the diva, resting her hand on Rachel's bare knee. "I can remember sitting in that chair, then up against the wall."

Rachel bit her lip as she allowed her mind to wander. "And who…um…with whom did this dream involve?" The diva shuddered breathlessly.

"Hmmm…" Quinn hummed as she wrapped her arm around the back of Rachel's chair. "I just don't remember." She purred.

_Something is wrong with Quinn!_

_This isn't like her…she must be sick!_

_Schizophrenia usually presents itself during early twenties, that must be what this is. _

_Why is she sitting so close?_

_I'm more concerned with the hand on our knee!_

_God, she truly smells like pretty!_

_Oh thank, God, her hand is gone!_

_Yes, Quinn, hand holding is a much safer location. _

_She's still too close. _

_Or not close enough…_

_Stop that right now! How dare you think that, Rachel Berry! _

"…So the first group is about to perform and while they show us their stuff, the second group can go get in to costume." Will said from the front of the room as he clapped.

Rachel seized on the distraction and spoke without thinking. "Mr. Schue, if I may. What _exactly _are you hoping to gain from these group performances?" Beside her, Quinn's eyes widened in panic as she watched the smile slide off Will's face as he stood stock still.

"Who said that?" He asked quickly as his face went pale and his eyes searched the rows of students.

"Rach." Quinn scolded quietly.

"Whoops." The diva mumbled and dropped down further in to her chair.

Recovering as quickly as possible, Will cleared his throat and laughed awkwardly as he thought: _For a second there I thought…never mind_. "As I explained last week, these group performances make us a more cohesive unit." He smiled boyishly at his class. "And since you all had a good time with Ms. Holiday, I figured you'd appreciate it if I let you guys have some fun. Try something a little daring. It can't always be about show tunes and classic rock. See guys, I've been listening." He chuckled.

Rachel scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Likely story." She mumbled to the nodding Quinn.

"So…without further ado, put your hands together for group one!" Will cheered and opened the choir room door as the band started to play.

"You have _got _to be kidding me? Quinn, we got here far too late. This is an abomination." Rachel frowned as she watched six students explode into the room. Five boys were all dressed in oversized jeans and beaters with chains hanging around their necks, except for the lone girl in their group who looked like a well dressed prostitute.

Everyone was cheering loudly as the six students stood in the front of the room and began dancing to the song. "Hip-hop." Rachel stated, throwing her hands up as she shook her head. "The man has lost his mind."

Quinn giggled and knocked her shoulder in to Rachel's as she grinned. "I like this song." The blonde said as she swayed in her seat. The rest of the class was already on their feet as _Bedrock _played. The first student was already rapping to the delight of his peers.

"Quinn, how does rapping help prepare these kids to defend our title? They get complacent and, oh look, McKinley's winning reign ends!" Quinn laughed and pulled Rachel to her feet so they could dance with everyone else.

"Stop talking, Rach." Quinn whispered in the diva's ear as she pressed her body up against Rachel's back and began to dance.

"_Okay_." Rachel breathed out as she felt Quinn move behind her. Softly, the blonde placed her hands on Rachel's hips and got the diva to sway along with the song and the rest of the students.

Rachel forgot herself again as Quinn whispered the words to the song in her ear and fit her body to the diva's. The students performing at the front of the room may have substituted g-spot with fun spot, but Quinn most certainly hadn't, and Rachel found herself only hearing the blonde. Feeling her. Feeling the way Quinn's fingers brushed down her bare arms until the blonde held Rachel's hands in her own. How Quinn guided Rachel's arm in to the air until she spun Rachel around to face her.

They were forehead to forehead as they slowly rocked their hips together, both smiling, as Quinn sang the words to Rachel. "Hey, gorgeous, um, I mean flawless." Quinn smirked in Rachel's ear as the diva wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck. "Well, that's what you are, how I see it is how I call it, yea."

Rachel took Quinn's right hand in her own and twirled the girl this time and steered her away from her body as she sang. "Look it how she walk, mmmhmm she know she bad," Quinn's eyebrow rose in shock that Rachel knew that words, but let the diva have her fun. "Do your thing, baby, I ain't even mad."

Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck and dipped to whisper in her ear. "I thought hip-hop was an abomination." Rachel laughed and stood on her tiptoes to whisper back.

"I never said hip-hop was an abomination, just that it's a waste of time for the glee club's efforts. I rather like rap from time to time." _Like right now_.

Once the song ended, the girls quickly caught on to the week's lesson: hip-hop through the ages. The next group of six did _Rapper's Delight_, followed by Run-D.M.C. A group of girls mashed up Salt N Pepa with TLC, a mash up of Eminem and the Beastie Boys was next, and the last group performed the latest from Tupac—yes…I said latest. Everyone got into the assignment, dressing up in the different hip-hop styles and giving it their all. Likewise, Quinn and Rachel had fun singing and dancing with one another and enjoying being back in the choir room.

Once all of the groups had gone, the students finally took their seats as Will clapped at the front of the room. "Guys! That was great! I'm so glad you had fun with the assignment, because that brings me to my next point: Nationals!" Everyone cheered and clapped; the excitement for the upcoming competition palpable. "I thought we'd be a little daring and use all your great dance moves to try a little Usher!"

"Mr. Schuester, I vehemently protest! While I have enjoyed myself immensely watching everyone get in to the assignment, I feel as though using hip-hop for Nationals isn't quite as daring as it is foolhardy! The judges need something to relate to and I for one feel hip-hop might be a tad too-" The words died on her lips as she realized her mistake. Rachel was standing on the top tier of the risers, hands on her hips, wide-eyed, as she stared down at the equally shocked room full of people.

Stammering at the front of the room, Will finally spoke. "_Rachel_?" He asked, stunned.

Beside her, Quinn covered her face with her hands as she cursed, but Rachel stood a little straighter as she ran her hands down her skirt. "Hello, Mr. Schuester."

Will laughed as he scrubbed his face. _I _knew _that interruption from before was far too Rachel Berry for it _not _to be Rachel Berry_. "Class," Will beamed. The students glanced back at him before turning around to look at Rachel again. "May I introduce Rachel Berry!" Will led the room in applause and Rachel smiled widely as she curtsied.

"Rachel, what are you _doing_ here?" Will asked as he motioned her forward. "And in a wig?" He laughed.

"As I'm sure you know, I'm getting married in a few days time." Rachel whispered to her old teacher as she stood beside him at the piano.

Again, Will was laughing in astonishment. "Yes, we got our invitation and almost fell over in shock." "We" was he and Ms. Pillsbury. "But what are you doing _here_? And why didn't you tell me? It would have been a great lesson for the class. We're actually setting up a trip to see your show."

Rachel blushed bright red as she stared up at him. "Really?"

"Of course! Rachel Berry, Broadway star, Lima alumna, glee club captain and MVP—of course I'd want to take the club to see you!" He paused for a moment, allowing her time to wipe away a stray tear, before excitement filled his eyes. "You have to perform for the class! They'd love it! You're a Lima idol!"

"Mr. Schue, I couldn't." Rachel answered as she ducked her head shyly, already mentally going through her wheelhouse to find lesson-appropriate songs she could perform.

"I insist." Will responded gently with a soft smile.

"Well I suppose I could come up with something." The class cheered and applauded getting Will to laugh and Rachel to duck her head again. "But only if it's a duet." Several hands shot in the air and Rachel giggled at everyone's enthusiasm.

"It looks like you have your pick, Ms. Berry." Will grinned down at the girl.

"Thank you, everyone. But I was kind of hoping my fiancée would like to join me." In the back row of the stands, Quinn covered her face again as she groaned again. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it! Thanks a lot, Rach. _

"Quinn's here too?" Will laughed as he rocked back on the balls of his feet happily. The students whipped around to stare at the blushing redhead. "What's with the wigs, guys?" Will asked as Quinn wearily trudged down to the front of the room as everyone applauded her.

Rachel slipped her wig off and fluffed out her hair. "Trying to keep a low profile." The diva stated sagely.

"And here I thought you were spying." Will smiled and winked at the diva.

"And also that." Rachel responded gravely. Will shook his head and chuckled, knowing full well that Rachel was serious.

"Hey, Mr. Schue." Quinn smiled as she stood next to Rachel.

"Hey, Quinn, it's great to see you guys. I'm so proud of both of you. And you're getting married!" Will laughed as he smiled at both of them. "You'll have to tell me later how I managed to miss that one." Quinn and Rachel shared a smile. "But first, you both have to perform."

The room erupted in applause and Rachel quieted them all day as she beamed back. "We need to get in to costume first." Simultaneously, seven girls all jumped from their seats and surrounded Rachel and Quinn. They were excitedly babbling away about all the different costume choices and makeup.

"Thanks a lot, Rach." Quinn repeated, this time to the diva.

"Anytime, Quinn." Rachel beamed broadly back at the blonde. Both girls were both quickly ushered out of the room to where the costumes were held. Rachel was adamant that Quinn didn't see her before the performance, so the diva was lead to a smaller room where she could pick out her hip-hop style and told one of the Cheerios that was helping to give Quinn the clothes the diva had picked out for her.

The blonde refrained from rolling her eyes when the Cheerio handed Quinn her wardrobe. Instead, she just smiled. "How's the team doing?" Quinn asked casually as she sorted through the mounds of makeup and accessories to find what she wanted; apparently glee club's budget was doing just fine.

The Cheerio beamed at Quinn. "We have Nationals coming up." Quinn nodded and continued to leaf through her selection before slipping on some oversized hoops. "Ms. Sylvester talks about you constantly." The Cheerio said reverently as she gazed up at Quinn.

The blonde lifted her eyebrow as she stared down at the girl. "That's…nice." Quinn finally settled on. She wasn't exactly sure what Sue Sylvester had said but hoped it was at least somewhat respectful.

"She's always saying that we'll never be as good as you were." The Cheerio continued, hands behind her back, her big blue eyes gazing at Quinn as though the blonde was made out of magic.

"Oh."

"You're the reason I came out, too." The Cheerio said softly.

Quinn's eyelashes fluttered momentarily before she fully understood what she was dealing with. The blond wet her lips and nodded. "Good for you." Quinn smiled softly. She held up the baggy khakis Rachel had picked out for her and motioned to the bathroom. "I'll be right back. Tell my fiancée I'll only be a few minutes." The Cheerio's bobbed as she watched Quinn enter the bathroom. She _really _hoped the girl caught-on to her subtle reference to Rachel—the girl's moon eyes were starting to make Quinn a little uncomfortable.

But, Quinn reasoned as she slipped off her dress and jumped into the pants, it was kind of cool that the girl looked up to her. She was a Cheerio in glee club and also a lesbian—Quinn could relate. She didn't let herself consider too long how different her life would have been if she had someone who had lived in Lima go on to be famous and be an out lesbian—everything happens for a reason, right?

A few minutes later, after Quinn stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and let out a huff; Rachel Berry was out of her mind. "The things we do for love." Quinn whispered to her reflection. She couldn't remember the last time she had wore pants that weren't Capri pants—probably glee club—and she rolled her eyes as she snapped at the beater she wore. "Out of her mind." Quinn grumbled before she exited the bathroom. Quinn nearly jumped a foot when she came face to face with the Cheerio.

"Rachel wants you to wear these too." The Cheerio said as she held up a baseball hat and a long, silver chain cross necklace. Quinn's eyebrow disappeared in to her hairline as she inspected the items. "She said something about how hot you'd look in the hat. She suggests you wear it backwards." Gone was Quinn's other eyebrow. "She also mentioned that the cross necklace was an inside joke."

"She said I'd look hot?" Quinn all but demanded as she stared down the Cheerio. The girl just nodded and Quinn smirked. "Interesting." The blonde mumbled as she moved around the Cheerio and placed the hat on her head, swagger in her step, and the long chained necklace bouncing against her other, smaller cross.

Quinn entered the room where Rachel was but the diva was nowhere to be found. "Rach?"

"I'm back here!" The diva called out, waving her hand over the changing divider in the back of the room. "Give these to Quinn, please?" A girl appeared out from the divider and she hurriedly handed Quinn sheet music with a big grin.

"_I'm Real? _Really, Rach, J-Lo?" Quinn scoffed.

"It's just Jennifer Lopez, Quinn." Rachel called back with slight exasperation in her tone.

"Rachel!" Quinn whined as her eyes flew down the page of the sheet music. "I can't say _half _of these words!"

"Just edit them for something else. Don't be petulant, Quinn. It will be fun!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Why do I have to be Ja Rule. This is ridiculous." Rachel's head poked out from the divider with a frown.

"Quinn, there is nothing ridiculous about educating the youth of today." Rachel's head was gone but Quinn continued to stare, mouth agape, where the diva had just been. If Rachel's hair and makeup were any indication, Quinn wasn't so sure she could handle performing alongside the diva; she looked—Quinn gulped—hot.

Quickly, Quinn's head snapped back down to the sheet music so she could refresh and memorize the words instead of wondering what scantily clad clothing her fiancée would be wearing. It was a difficult task. "Rach, do I really have to say holla?"

Ten minutes later, Quinn was told to head for the choir room so Rachel could make her surprise—read: grand—appearance. The girls who had been helping Rachel entered the choir room giggling in excitement as they took their seats. "Hey, Brad." Quinn mumbled to the piano player as she waited awkwardly.

"Hey, Quinn." The man nodded back with a small barely-there smile that expressed his sympathy as he eyed the blonde's clothes. But then the music started to play and Rachel slipped in to the room, singing Jennifer Lopez's opening notes.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it!_

_Is she _seriously _wearing those shorts? Seriously? I was lucky enough to get through our funk number when she wore them! How the _hell _am I going to pull off singing and dancing with her when she's wearing that?_

_You're supposed to sing here. _

_Thanks for the cue. _

_God, who knew tube socks could be so freaking hot? _

_Rachel in a beater…_

_Rachel in a hat…_

_Rachel's hair in a braid…_

_Rachel…_

Quinn found herself standing behind the diva as the girl sang, interjecting where she was supposed to and harmonizing as best she could. Over her shoulder, Rachel smiled at Quinn and moved her hips in time with the blonde's—not touching, but so close Quinn's body broke out in shivers.

Hazel eyes dropped down to watch Rachel's shaking ass and the blonde found no problem as holla slipped from her lips. Likewise, Rachel was having a difficult time staying focused. Knowing how well they danced together, she was hard pressed not to shimmy up to the blonde and roll her ass against Quinn's hips. Especially since the blonde looked absolutely drop-dead sexy.

The class was clapping and dancing along, cheering the pair on as they gave their performance. Quinn would sway left as Rachel would weave right, completely in sync even though they hadn't planned it. Their smiles were genuine and when Rachel sang: "And when I'm feeling sexy, who's gonna comfort me?" Quinn seamlessly leaned into the diva, both their smirks automatic.

As the chorus kicked in, Quinn devotedly followed Rachel around the front of the room, careful to keep her eyes glee-club-approved level and sang, actually having a blast. Rachel spun around so they could sing together, their eyes locking, as they honestly stated that they could not go on without the other.

It was Quinn's turn to sing and the blonde could no longer deny herself. She easily slung her arms around Rachel's neck as they danced. "But not knowing that were growing and we're getting married." The room cheered loudly as both girls blushed before they both laughed as they harmonized, "Hard lovin', straight thuggin'"

"I'm here to get hoppin' hoppin'" They sang as they indeed hopped to the beat before immediately rejoining. They continued the rest of the song, Quinn holding Rachel's hands and thrusting their combined fists forward to the music, as they sang cheek to cheek, Rachel swaying against Quinn's hips—never feeling sexier than in that moment in Quinn's arms.

It was decidedly PG13ish. Only Will looked slightly uncomfortable at times. But it was difficult not to just generally enjoy their performance when it was so obvious that the two girls were so thoroughly in love with one another. That they were having fun together. That they _had _fun together. Each move they made mirrored the other, displaying how well Quinn knew Rachel, and how well Rachel knew Quinn.

Both girls bowed at the end, laughing at the exuberance of the room, and smiling at one another as their eyes sparkled their happiness. Soon, Rachel was bombarded with requests for her autograph and pictures, and the diva obliged before sending one more beaming smile Quinn's way over her shoulder—their eye contact a tad too intense for their supposed fake relationship.

"So," Will sighed with a smile as he leaned back against the piano next to the blonde. "Rachel Berry." Quinn blushed as she ducked her head before she glanced up at her old teacher.

"Uh huh."

"I gotta say, Quinn," Will shook his head, eyes trained on the diva as she interacted with the glee club. "I didn't see that one coming."

Quinn laughed into her palms. "Me either." The blonde watched Rachel pose and grinned at the sight. "She makes me laugh."

"Well at least you two are _finally _getting along." Quinn chuckled as she bit her lip.

"Sometimes." She grinned at Will before she sighed. "It took me a really long time to realize it, but…yeah, Rachel Berry makes me laugh. She's…"

"She's something all right." Will said with another grin as he crossed his arms. "She has a big heart."

"The biggest."

"I'm really proud of both of you, for what it's worth. Not only have you found each other, but you're doing what you _love_!" Will gushed. "Look at those kids. You're an inspiration to them!"

"That's Rachel." Quinn said with a shrug, enjoying watching Rachel answer the group's questions and soak up the limelight—and maybe she allowed her gaze to drop down to glee-club-unapproved eye level from time to time.

"Yeah," Will said with a shrug of his own before returning his stare to Quinn. "But you're Rachel's inspiration." Quinn bit back a smile as Will placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder and squeezed affectionately before reeling his glee club in. She just sat back and watched the familiar scene: Mr. Schuester calling the class to order while Rachel Berry challenged him. It was at that moment Quinn truly realized it. Perhaps things had been just too chaotic for too long to understand. But she was happy.

X

_Three weeks ago…_

Santana Lopez was curled up on her couch as she flipped through the channels on the TV and stopped with a smile when she saw a commercial for _A Date a Month. _With a wince, she rearranged her position just as the front door slammed. "Sannie, I'm hooomee!" Santana grinned as she slowly sat up just as Brittany rounded the corner and into the living room of their apartment.

"Hi, baby." Santana greeted as Brittany carefully sat down on her girlfriend's lap. "How was work?"

The blonde was still a little sweaty, but Santana didn't mind. "It was super fun. I had this little old lady take my hip-hop class and she was so cool." The blonde gushed. "How was your day?" Brittany asked softly as she brushed a piece of hair off the Latina's cheek.

"Tiring, but good. They let me out early because there was so little to do." Brittany beamed back as she placed the mail she had been carrying down on the couch. Santana eyed the envelopes wearily but smiled at Brittany so the blonde wouldn't worry. There were always bills to pay and Santana's job at Lima Energy was _not _cutting it. Although Brittany's aerobics and dance classes at the local gym were always packed, it was difficult to make ends meet and keep up with school.

"Can I open this big envelope, Sannie, it has my name on it too?" The blonde asked with pleading eyes; she loved opening the mail. And plus, it was really weird that she had to sign for the letter when the man in the suit handed it to her before she entered her apartment. Brittany _really _wanted to know what was inside. But Santana took the thick envelope from the blonde with a placating smile.

"You can open the next one, okay? I think it's from your nana." Santana never let Brittany open the mail because she didn't want to make the blonde sad with all their bills. Brittany was happily ripping open the letter from her nana as Santana stared at the thick white envelope that was address to them in calligraphy. It was a monster of an envelope.

"Nana says hi." Brittany read to Santana and then chuckled over whatever else her nana had written, as Santana slipped her finger to open the letter in her hands.

At first, nothing was making sense to Santana. The legal jargon in the letter spoke of confidentiality and wavers. She registered the familiar names but it took her three readings to final grasp what the letter contained.

"Oh, sweet mother of mercy!" Santana shrieked as she jumped to her feet.

"San, you hurt my butt." Brittany complained from the floor as she rubbed the sore area, looking up at Santana with a pout.

"I'm sorry-" That's all the Latina got out before promptly fainting.


	14. Chapter 14 My Best Friends' Wedding

_Despite the title, this isn't the wedding chapter. The dress fittings, bachelorette parties, and more gleek drama all happens next chapter. Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. Your support and reaction to this is truly overwhelming and appreciated. _

Chapter Fourteen: My Best Friends' Wedding

Rachel exploded out of McKinley and was immediately dancing in the parking lot as Quinn rushed to keep up. The blonde was laughing as she watched Rachel twirl around their car as she continued to sing _I'm Real _at the top of her lungs—and considering it was Rachel Berry, it was pretty loud.

"Wait up!" Quinn yelled through a laugh as she sprinted towards the diva, quickly tossing their clothes in the car and hurrying to follow as Rachel skipped down the sidewalk that led out of McKinley's parking lot. "Rach!"

"Keep up, Fabray!" Rachel called back, spinning around to grin at the blonde before trotting forward merrily. The wind had picked up and danced stray pieces of Rachel's hair in every direction, giving off the effect of importance; like the moment mattered greatly.

"Gotcha!" Quinn whispered as she wrapped her arms around a giggling Rachel, burying her smile in the diva's neck. They continued on like that, Quinn's arms around Rachel, her chin on the diva's shoulder, as they took careful steps, completely fine with the fact that they had left the car in the parking lot. If Quinn was curious as to where Rachel was leading them, she never asked. She only laughed when Rachel began singing loudly again, nudging Quinn lightly to join in as well. "Good day?" Quinn breathed out in between verses.

Rachel took a deep breath as she smiled, pulling Quinn's arms tighter around her waist as they walked. "Good day." She followed that up with another line from the song. But when Quinn twirled Rachel before bringing her back in her arms, Rachel stopped singing.

"You okay?" The blonde asked as she rested her chin back on Rachel's shoulder as they continued to walk, concerned that Rachel stopped mid-line.

Rachel was silent for a moment, the sound of their feet skidding across gravel as they trouped along, before she giggled softly. "We are the crowd." Rachel stated.

"What?"

"We're coming out."

"I think we already did that."

"Got my flash on, it's true."

"You've stop making sense."

"Need that picture of you."

"What picture?"

"It's so magical."

"Rachel, do I need to call someone to fix you or _not_?"

"We'd be so fantastical."

"Wh-" Quinn cut herself off just as a slow smile spread. She giggled into Rachel's neck before she cautiously glanced over her shoulder. "You couldn't have just said something?" Quinn whispered as she chuckled.

"Leather and jeans. Garage glamorous." Rachel sang loudly. "Not sure what it means. But this photo of us."

"It don't have a price. Ready for those flashing lights." Quinn joined in.

"Cause you know that, baby…"

Now both Rachel and Quinn were singing loudly. "I'm your biggest fan, I follow you until you love me, papa-paparazzi."

The camera crew slowly followed several feet behind the two girls, happy to have finally found the pair. Quinn and Rachel continued to belt out the lyrics to the Gaga song, almost like they had unleashed their hidden glee club member, and couldn't stop singing. Or maybe they were just happy. Happy, and singing was the only way they could fully express it.

Their laughter made singing difficult, so instead of continuing on, Rachel surprised Quinn by jumping on her back until they toppled over onto a grassy area right by the bus stop where cars were speeding by.

Rachel's back was arched off the grass as she thumped her head down hard on the ground with laughter—roaring laughter that skipped and gasped and harmonized perfectly with Quinn's. The blonde lay crumbled against Rachel's body, their legs entwined, as they just laughed.

"I have a grass stain on my pants." Quinn observed with a pout, making Rachel's booming laughter ring throughout. The camera crew kept their distance, but was closely focused on the playful moment between the two.

"I always feel like, somebody's watching me!" Rachel sang out in between giggles. Quinn just gazed at her, elbow propped up, fingers laced through her hair, a soft smile, eyes intently trained on the diva.

Suddenly she was on her knees, her arms snaking through the grass, until she was just beside Rachel's ear. "I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me, papa-paparazzi." She sang softly as she removed the hat on her head and covered her and Rachel's faces away from the cameras.

Rachel's laughter died instantly as her eyes shot to Quinn's, her breaths coming out in pants from the fall, laughter, and singing—but mostly from Quinn. "I don't like the cameras." Quinn whispered with a mischievous smile. Rachel only nodded in understanding as her heart thudded away as they lay hidden from the camera lenses.

She couldn't understand why Quinn's lips were still so close to her ear, but Rachel just stayed absolutely still and willed herself not to do something drastic—in every form. "Baby you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me, papa-paparazzi." Quinn's singing was so soft like air and so strong like a caress that Rachel shivered violently.

Throwing an arm around Rachel's waist, Quinn leaned in closer and just barely skimmed her lips against the shell of Rachel's ear. "Promise I'll be kind, but I won't stop until that-" Quinn cut herself off and Rachel tilted her head slightly as she glanced up to meet Quinn's playful stare. "…Girl is mine. Baby you'll be famous, chase you down until you love me, papa-paparazzi."

Quinn giggled at the surprise in Rachel's eyes and ducked her head to nuzzle into Rachel's neck. "Mad dash on three?"

Rachel was nodding and not sure why. She knew Quinn just asked her a question, but she couldn't process it. If her affections were for the cameras, then why had she blocked their faces? If her words were to prove her feelings for the media, then why were the whispered words too low for the mikes to pick up on such a windy day? Rachel felt disoriented. The intimacy of the moment was making her lightheaded. Or maybe she was dizzy because she kept forgetting how to breathe and then would overcompensate with harsh pants. "One. Two. Rachel, are you ready?"

Their eyes met briefly and Quinn grinned wickedly at the flash of astonishment she found in the dark eyes. Rachel was looking up at her as if a clue from a great secret had just been revealed. She swallowed thickly and nodded again. "You're ready?" Quinn asked softly, with all traces of mirth gone.

This time, Rachel didn't nod. She wasn't exactly sure what the question really was. She felt Quinn's fingers squeeze her hip softly before she slid her palm over Rachel's stomach and down until their fingers were twined. "Three." Quinn breathed out with another smile, until she tugged sharply on Rachel's hand as she propelled both of them to their feet. They took off at a sprint with Rachel trailing and wondering how she was in second place of a race she initially started what felt like decades ago.

Quinn and Rachel had the advantage. They were not in their late forties, carrying heavy camera equipment, and unfamiliar with the area; it was easy to lose the camera crew. They ducked through the woods behind the bus stop that led towards McKinley and twisted and ducked until they were back on school grounds, giggling and laughing as they went. They hopped into the car and Quinn was peeling from the parking lot before Rachel's door was even shut.

The ride to the Berrys had been silent except for the soft music playing on the radio. Quinn was afraid to look over at Rachel. She knew that the diva needed to figure out what just happened. What had been happening for quite some time. Rachel was trying not to think about it, however. Because if the pieces were adding up how she thought they were…well…for right now she wouldn't do math; it was giving her heartburn.

_She's catching on. _

_I always thought Rachel was smarter than this. _

_Seriously? It took you over five years to realize that you love her and you're judging the girl because, after all that you had done to her in high school and finding out about your lie, she needs a little time to figure it out? _

_I wasn't always terrible to her!_

_I don't want to have this argument with you again. You sucked, let's just move on. _

_You're right, sorry. I'm just getting frustrated. _

_But she's catching on, it's working. The touching, the flirting, the subtle compliments; she's getting there. _

_I saw that look in her eye, she knows. _

_We don't know what she knows yet, but she's realizing things are different; they're changing. _

_They need to move faster, the wedding is days away!_

_Contingency plan time; what if she _doesn't _realize or she _doesn't _come clean. _

_I don't want to think about that. _

_Well stop biting your lip and _start _thinking about it because it's a real possibility. We're all in a very high-pressured situation here. There's a lot of baggage that's about to be dropped. Plenty of opportunities for Rachel to pop back in her shell or bury or head in the sand or whatever because she's scared. _

_I've been dreading that. With all of the past crap about to come up, there are way too many chances for Rachel to freak. _

_Finn. _

_Shelby. _

_Ugh, Santana. _

_Then we'll have to worry about her insecurities. _

_Puck. _

_Sam. _

_Freaking Finn, again. _

_And I'm pretty sure there will be some curve balls cause there always are. So, like I said, contingency plan time. _

_Look, whether she comes clean or not, we are getting married. There's a lot more to think about besides our own selfish feelings. _

_Unfortunately, you're right. I just need you to know that. I don't want you to get your heart broken. _

_My heart is fine. It's Rachel's I'm worried about. _

_Well, that's why we saw the lawyer. _

_I just- I really hope when all the drama goes down, because it undoubtedly will, that she comes to me. _

_And that's why I'm worried about your heart. Because if something happens, and Rachel _doesn't _come to you, you'll be devastated. _

_I just want her to trust me. Above everything else, I just want her to trust me. _

_She does. She's just been through a lot. _

Quinn slowly exhaled before turning the radio up slightly. The music distracted her from her thoughts and she sang along to keep from mentally debating with herself further.

As Quinn pulled Rachel's daddy's car into the driveway, she frowned at the sight of Shiloh waiting beside the front door. "Party's over." Quinn breathed out with disdain as she slowly got out of the car.

Rachel was surprised when her car door was opened and Quinn held out her hand for her to take. But hazel eyes were still staring at Shiloh, as though the action was instinctual, immediate; her chivalrous ways ingrained and not planned. Rachel took Quinn's hand and allowed herself to be led up to the house, not really caring that Shiloh had found them.

Shiloh only nodded when they approached. "We need to talk."

Ten minutes later they were all seated around the Berrys' kitchen table with mugs of tea hugged between their palms. "You have your interviews tomorrow. Everyone has their interviews tomorrow." Shiloh said carefully.

Rachel nodded as she sipped her tea. "I'm prepared." Quinn nodded as well and scooted her chair closer to Rachel's and took one of her hands.

"That's fantastic." Shiloh said dryly. "How about you, Quinn? The rest of your bridal party; are _they _prepared."

"No." Quinn shook her vehemently. "I don't want to be interviewed. I will smile for the camera and do the whole dog and pony show, but I don't want to be interviewed and it wasn't in the contract; I checked."

Rachel pouted adorably as she looked up at Quinn. "You don't want to do an interview together?" Quinn sighed deeply and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Rach…I _really _don't want to." Rachel frowned again.

"But it would be nice."

"Can we talk about this later, Rach? I _really _don't want to."

Shiloh sighed loudly as she leaned back in her chair; she hated this project more every day. "Fine. The wedding party?"

"I see no reason why they should be interviewed."

"Because, Quinn, they know you two and it will be nice to have personal statements from them."

"I don't want them to." Quinn said through her teeth, only imagining how awful it could all turn out if Santana, Brittany, Kurt, and Puck had a mike in front of them.

"Well if they want to say something really no one can stop them. And they probably will; everyone wants their fifteen minutes. So I suggest you pay them a visit to coach them."

Rachel and Quinn shared an eye roll before Rachel smiled. "I'd just prefer a muzzle." Quinn quirked her eyebrow in agreement.

"Why? Do you two have a lot of skeletons?" Shiloh asked with a wince.

"Tons."

"An insurmountable amount."

"I'd really feel much better if we just got a muzzle."

"Or pay-offs." Rachel said to Quinn who nodded in agreement.

"We'll pay them off."

"They are a _very_ morally bankrupted bunch."

"I'm so glad we didn't go ahead and investigate before we decided to do this." Shiloh mumbled sarcastically. "Do what you have to, legal or otherwise. Next on the agenda: final fittings are tomorrow. Rachel, you go with the boys and Quinn will go with the girls. After that are the interviews. Then you're good until the big day. Clear?"

Rachel and Quinn nodded. "Great. Next, the wedding. Your pit bull has been doing a lovely job of making sure all _your _decisions are being put forth."

"Thank you, Charlene." Rachel beamed. Quinn was _very _happy to hear that Charlene Swaine was cracking the whip.

"Later on today she'll bring by the final seating chart and you'll just sign off on it."

"Sounds good."

"Just make sure you talk to your friends."

"They're not our friends." Quinn clarified with a scowl.

Shiloh rolled her eyes and huffed as she rose. "Forced friends, obligatory wedding party, whatever you want to call them. Just make sure you prep them because with all the celebrities in town there are bound to be paparazzi and I _really _don't feel like running damage control. Got it?"

"Whatever."

"Fine." Quinn and Rachel said at the same time and then traded smiles over their lack of compliance.

As Shiloh went to leave the kitchen, she turned around and eyed the two girls. "Just do me a favor, guys. You don't need to sit for the camera crew all day, but _please _don't run away from them? I really don't feel like having to hire a new crew because the old ones dropped dead after chasing you all around Lima. And Bob, Scott, and Richy are actually sweet."

"No promises." Quinn said evenly as she sat back in her chair. Shiloh shook her head as she let herself out of the Berry house and Quinn turned to Rachel once she heard the front door close.

"Good day?"

"Not remotely." Rachel grumbled as she crashed her head on the table and tugged on her hair. "I don't want to see them. I want to live in a bubble and just gloss over everything else."

"That sounds perfect." Quinn agreed easily as she moved her chair even closer to Rachel's and slung her arm around her back. "But I had fun singing with you."

Rachel peaked out from behind her hair to glance up at Quinn. They both shared a soft smile until Rachel felt the tension shift. "What shall we do tonight?" She asked in a whisper.

Quinn bit her lip as she smiled at Rachel. "Well, I promised your dads I'd make them dinner, but after that I'm free. Are you offering?"

Rachel nodded slowly as she stared up at Quinn. "I guess I am."

"Then I accept." Quinn answered as she ran her fingers through Rachel's hair, tousling the waves slightly. "Watch a movie or go out?" They shared smiles as they silently agreed to stay in.

"I have to do our laundry, though." Rachel mumbled as her eyes slid closed at the feel of Quinn's fingers running through her hair.

"We'll fold as we watch our movie." Rachel nodded against the table.

"What are you making for dinner?" She asked with a yawn.

"Haven't decided yet but we have to go food shopping for the rest of the week."

"Sorry about that. We're famous for our take-out around these parts." Quinn chuckled softly as she stared down at Rachel.

"I believe I knew what I was signing up for. But I figured I'd go the extra mile and just cook the rest of the meals while we're here; no take-out. Both your dads have been randomly texting me all week with their requests."

"Even breakfast?" Rachel asked sleepily.

Quinn laughed again. "Even breakfast." Rachel smiled dopily at the thought. "When did you wanna go food shopping? Before or after we see everyone?"

Rachel yawned loudly and sat up with a stretch. She easily slid against Quinn's side as the blonde wrapped her arm around her and pulled her close. "I'll throw the first load of laundry in now and we'll run to the store. Then we'll see everyone." Quinn nodded her consent as she rested her chin atop of Rachel's head.

"Sounds like a plan."

"Or maybe we can start with a nap?"

"No nap."

"Slave driver."

"And remind me to call that guy from the New York studio."

"Mmmkay." Rachel breathed out as she cuddled closer to Quinn.

"Don't get comfy, Rach, we need to go see everyone."

Rachel pouted as she looked up at Quinn. "But I thought this was our day off."

Quinn sighed heavily and ran a finger down Rachel's nose. "We don't get days off, apparently. So who do you want to start with first?"

X

Now that it was a far more descent hour than it had been at the airport, Mercedes smiled brightly as she passed by Quinn into the Berry house. "How are the lovebirds doing?"

Quinn didn't smile. She couldn't smile. It would just come off as a grimace, anyway. So instead, she just followed her friend into the kitchen where Rachel was manically baking. When Mercedes saw the diva in her tizzy, she froze where she stood, lips parting and eyebrow rising, silently asking Quinn what was going on, as Rachel zipped back and forth through the kitchen.

Quinn sighed deeply. "It's been a tough day." She answered diplomatically.

"Ha!" Rachel scoffed as she hurriedly wiped her hands on her apron before rolling a ball of batter between her hands and then plopping it onto a cookie tray. "It's been more than tough! It's been _excruciating!_"

"Okay…what's going on?" Mercedes asked as she collapsed into a seat at the kitchen table. When she glanced up, both Rachel and Quinn were staring down at her with betrayal in their eyes and hands on their hips. "Guys?"

"You could have told us." Quinn accused.

"Warned us! Instead of throwing us _right _into the fire." Rachel followed up.

"It was like watching those orphan commercials and I feel all sad and depressed because I don't want to donate ten cents a day."

"Or the ones where they show three-legged dogs while Sarah McLachlan sings in the background!"

"It was _horrible_." Quinn whispered with a far-off look, like she was recalling the events.

"Not _just _horrible. _Horrifying! _It was horrifying, Mercedes, and _you _could have prepared us!" Rachel scolded as she pointed accusingly at the girl.

Mercedes stared blankly up at the pair and blinked slowly. "Okay, I have _no _idea what you guys are going on about."

Rachel was off again, quickly moving around the kitchen in a blur of pink as she stirred and cracked and plopped. "Shiloh came by the house."

"She told us that some of the guests and wedding party would likely want to be interviewed."

"As I'm sure you're aware, that would _hardly _be wise considering our history, separate and together, to let the gleeks speak about us in front of a camera!"

"So she urged us to talk to them. Maybe sway them not to talk or at least leave out the stuff we don't want the public to know."

Quinn reached out and took Rachel's trembling hand to stop her movements. The diva immediately buried herself in Quinn's chest and heaved a great sob. "It was just _awful_."

"I know, sweetie, I know." Quinn soothed as she closed her eyes and held Rachel.

Mercedes watched them silently as she tried to figure out what was going on. "So…what? They were mean to you guys. They gave you a hard time?"

Rachel whipped around and glowered. "I wish they _had_!"

"It would have been so much better." Quinn mumbled as she led Rachel over to the table. Rachel sat down on Quinn's lap with a deep sigh and curled there as she recalled their day.

"I thought…I thought that it would be fun." Rachel whispered wistfully. "Or at least full of nostalgia. Perhaps I was a _tad_ nervous."

"We both were." Quinn added, staring unseeing across the kitchen.

"I was anxious to come face to face with Santana Lopez again."

"I really didn't want to talk to Puck."

"We thought that it would be almost bothersome recapping how we came to be and retelling our story and what we've been up to."

"But then…"

"But then…"

Mercedes' eyebrow rose as she glanced from Quinn to Rachel. "But then _what_?" She all but shouted.

Rachel buried her face in Quinn's neck. "You tell it, Quinn. I-I _can't_!"

"It's okay, Rach. It's going to be okay." Quinn glanced up at the impatient and confused Mercedes, and heaved a great sigh. "We both left on such bad terms with everyone." She started softly. Mercedes could only just hear her over Rachel's soft whimpering. "We really had no idea what to expect. We hadn't seen nor heard from anyone since graduation so we weren't really looking forward to it. Especially since we were both so sure they'd want to slam the door in our faces or torment us for our relationship." Quinn sighed again and wrapped her arms tighter around Rachel. "We didn't expect…well…what we got."

X

Five Hours Ago…

Both Quinn and Rachel were arguing as Quinn drove, neither happy about talking with their old classmates. They figured they'd start with the wedding party, even though they weren't too keen on the idea. Obviously they could skip Mercedes, so that left them with Santana, Brittany, Kurt, Puck, and Mike. Of course they'd have to revisit the other gleeks because they'd be at the wedding as well. It also left other students from their McKinley days because if there was a camera crew in Lima, most likely, everyone who knew Quinn and Rachel or knew _of _Quinn and Rachel, would want to talk. And that's exactly what they _didn't _want to happen.

Naturally, the camera crew would edit anything bad out; the goal of the studio was to show Rachel and Quinn in a positive light. But that wouldn't stop other Lima residents from taking to the internet to tell _their _side of things or gush to the lingering paparazzi. Quinn was concerned over the fact that it wasn't something she considered before. She blamed Rachel inwardly—or the world-wind that was her feelings for the diva. So they had to run damage control. By any means necessary. Currently, they were arguing over where to start first.

"I see _no _reason why I must accompany you to Santana and Brittany's. We'll split up, you go there, and I go see Noah."

"Absolutely not! You will be alone with Puckerman over my dead body!"

"Well you're coming with me to Kurt's; I'm terrified I will crack under the pressure!"

"And I think it's best if he doesn't see us together until much later; preferably while he's distracted by wedding gowns and tuxedos."

"_You _should go see Mike; I think I've only spoken to him once and I was highly intoxicated at the time."

"I don't think I've ever spoken to him at all!"

"Wait…Quinn! Where are you taking us?" Rachel shrieked as they pulled up to the apartment complex. "Quinn Fabray! You are manipulative and sneaky and-and-and _mean!_"

Quinn yanked the keys from the ignition and hurriedly got out of the car to pull Rachel out. "Rachel!" Quinn yelled and gritted her teeth as the diva twisted and turned out of Quinn's grip. "Come _on_!"

"NO! You can't make me, you can't make me!"

Five minutes later Quinn and Rachel were standing outside of the call box that led into Santana and Brittany's apartment building. They were both silently staring at the button that was labeled "Lopez/Pierce."

"Okay…rock, paper, scissors." Quinn finally said firmly. She positioned her hands accordingly and looked up only to find Rachel frowning. "What?"

"Rock, paper, scissors?"

"Yeah, Rach, rock, paper, scissors. Let's do this."

"Quinn, for the time being, I will look over the fact that rock, paper, scissors is the most inane idea for decision making, and clearly point out that there is no concrete reason why I have to go up there. They're in _your _wedding party and they were _your _friends."

"_She_ was _never_ my friend."

"She was as close to a friend as either one of you could have had."

"That sounded like an insult."

"That's because it was one."

"Rach!"

"Let's not gloss over the fact that you were a bit of a self-centered bitch in high school, Quinn."

"_Rachel_!" Quinn admonished as she crossed her arms over her chest with a petulant frown.

Rachel only shrugged. "I'm just keeping it real."

"For the time being, I will look over the fact that 'I'm just keeping it real' is the most inane expression coming from _you_. It's not like I chose Santana and Brittany for my wedding party, and Brittany wasn't all that bad in high school so-"

"She was hardly good."

"Fine, but please don't make me go in there by myself. I really, _really _don't think I can deal with Santana after the day we've had."

"I thought we had a delightful day."

"And we did…up until now, and I just really can't handle Santana without you. And since you refuse to up there and I don't feel it's fair that I'm automatically supposed to, I'm suggesting rock, paper, scissors." Rachel grew quiet, arms folded, as she stared up at Quinn with a frown.

"I still feel rock, paper, scissors is ridiculous."

"Why?"

"Because, Quinn," Rachel roared as she threw her hands up in the air. "Rock covers paper? What? The rock can't break through? It doesn't have sharp edges? The physical weight of said rock can't deform the paper? It's preposterous. And furthermore, who's to say that the scissors are actually sharp enough to cut through the paper? What if it's a stack of paper? Are they child's safety scissors or are they sharpened could-be-lethal scissors? If your hand is a representation of the paper, wouldn't that imply that the paper is not one lonely piece, yet, a thick bundle? And how big is the rock? Is it a pebble? A boulder? Again, are the scissors a child's and the rock the size of the Grand Canyon? There are so many unanswered questions and too much that is left up to interpretation to make the game a plausible and an effective way of making decisions!"

Quinn's face was blank as she stared back at Rachel silently. "May I offer a counter-game?" Quinn made a sweeping gesture with her arm for Rachel to continue. "My fathers and I invented a decision-making game of our own: Fist, mask, slippers."

Quinn blinked once as she stared down at Rachel. The diva was quickly explaining. "The fist, or rock, signifies the big fight-scene in _West Side Story_. The mask, or paper, represents _Phantom of the Opera_, and the slippers, or scissors, are the ruby slippers from _Wicked_. You present your sign and then use cool logic as an argument as to why your symbol would best win in a fight against your opponent's. Completely reasonable."

Quinn continued to stare blankly at Rachel until she finally shrugged. "That sounds fine."

Rachel beamed happily up at Quinn, pleased that her suggestion and its intelligence weren't lost on her fiancée. "Lovely!"

"Okay, we'll close our eyes, count to three, and present our sign. Sound good?" Rachel nodded happily as her eyes slid closed. "One, two-" Before getting to three, however, Quinn bent down and scooped Rachel up and over her shoulder.

"Quinn!" The blonde pushed open the door that led to the building and quickly scaled the steps as Rachel shouted her protests. "But they were mean to me! _Meaaaan, _Quinn, _meaaaaan!_"

Quinn pounded on the apartment door as she set a pouting Rachel down. "That was terrible, Quinn, and I will never forgive you for this!" She hissed as she folded her arms. Quinn sighed and bent down slightly to be on eye level with Rachel. She cupped Rachel's face and stared at her intently.

"I can't do this without you. I can't do anything without you. I need you with me to confront them. Please don't be mad at me." It was Rachel's turn to sigh as her arms dropped to her sides. _Well how the hell am I supposed to argue with that? _So she didn't. Instead, Rachel just nodded silently and steeled herself for what was about to come. They both did.

They exchanged nervous glances as they heard Santana's voice from inside, claiming that she'd be there in just a minute. "We can always back out of this. No one has to know. We'll just skip town. We'll get new friends. Change our names. I don't _have _to sing on Broadway. I hear they're doing lovely things in Europe."

Quinn smirked to herself, picturing her and Rachel on the lamb…together. Just the two of them. _She so effing loves me_. But then the sound of a lock turning snapped her attention back to the door and without thinking, Quinn blindly reached out for Rachel's hand and slid in front of the diva as if she could protect her. She felt the reassuring squeeze back and felt stronger knowing that she and Rachel were in it together.

Both Quinn and Rachel swallowed thickly as the dark eyes of Santana Lopez stared back at them through the thin crack of the doorway. The security chain was still latched and all three of them were quiet as they stared at one another.

"_So_…" Santana drawled out as she placed a hand on her hip, her tone playful in its calm-before-the-storm way. "Little Rachel Berry and big bad Quinn Fabray came back to Lima." She chuckled ruefully and tapped her nails on the door jam.

Rachel's worried eyes found Quinn's as she stood just behind the blonde. She moved closer to Quinn, ready to grab her just in case Santana ripped open the door and attacked. Rachel wouldn't put it passed Santana to be _that _kind of crazy.

"Alllll these years." Santana sighed, her nails continuingly tapping away. "Thought I saw the last of your sorry asses after graduation. But no. Here you are again." Quinn's eyes narrowed as she heard Santana's voice hitch slightly. "Back in Lima. Back here. On my doorstep."

Rachel shifted uncomfortably as she frowned, unsure why Santana seemed to be losing her evil steam. "Just like old times." Quinn's head cocked as Santana sniffled. "All together again." Rachel pressed against Quinn's back as tears started to well in Santana's eyes. "Getting married. Falling in love."

Suddenly, the door was ripped open and Santana's arms were solidly around Quinn, and in turn, a shrieking Rachel, as she heaved giant sobs and clung to both girls. "Falling in love and getting married!" This was the only audible thing she really got out. Quinn twisted her neck to stare down at the horrified Rachel as Santana continued to cry openly on her shoulder. They caught phrases like "together," and "in love," and "so happy," and "maid of honor." It was decidedly awkward.

But then it all made sense and Quinn gasped loudly when she felt it. "Oh my, God."

"I'm just so happy to see you guys!" Santana wailed, damping Quinn's shoulder with her tears…and she may have drooled a little too. Santana finally pulled away and she used one palm to cup Quinn's cheek and the other to cup Rachel's as tears continued to spill. Quinn was frozen as her wide eyes dropped down, but Rachel hadn't realized yet, still firmly attached to Quinn's back as Santana looked happily between the two.

"I told Brittany, I said, 'Brits, I _knew _Quinn _got_ me, ya know. I _knew _she would understand that how I was in high school was just my way of telling everyone how much I cared!' And here you are! You got it! And you made me your maid of honor! I knew you would get it, Q, I _knew_ it!"

Quinn was still paralyzed as Santana threw her arms around her neck. She remained in Santana's hold as the girl carried on with her sobs, stationary as she tried to grasp what was going on. "Rachel!" Santana cried out against Quinn's shoulder. "We had _such_ a great friendship!" Rachel was almost positive that when Quinn carried her up the stairs, she must have dropped her and this was all a big hallucination. _Did Santana Lopez just say that we had been friends?_ She was far too stunned by that announcement to move out of Santana's grasp, so she stayed pinned to Quinn's back, thankful for the contact from Quinn. "Oh, how much fun we all had together!"

As Santana continued to sob, Quinn tried to find words. Rachel, of course, found them a little easier. "Is she sauced, Quinn? Severely intoxicated?"

Quinn was frantically shaking her head as Santana used her dress as a tissue, barely managing to breathe the word out. "Pregnant." Each syllable was laced with horror. "She's _very _pregnant."

Rachel gasped loudly and was finally able to pull out of Santana's grasp. "She's with spawn?" Rachel dropped her hands away from her wide-open mouth and pulled Quinn back and wrapped her arms around her waist protectively, almost as though she was afraid Quinn would catch it—_it_ being pregnancy.

Sure enough, now that Quinn wasn't blocking her view, the huge baby bump was revealed and Rachel couldn't take her eyes off the sight. It didn't help that Santana was only wearing a beater that stretched tightly just above her navel.

Santana gave the gaping pair a watery smile as she rubbed her protruding stomach. "Isn't it exciting?" Was all she got out before she exploded into another round of tears—these were less cheerful.

Quinn and Rachel traded anxious looks before Rachel sprang into action. She moved around Quinn and quickly took Santana's hand. "It's _very _exciting, Santana." Rachel said, speaking extremely slowly. "We're _very _happy for you." Rachel glanced over at Quinn and gave the panicked girl a reassuring nod, before she continued on, still speaking as slowly as possible. "It was _so _good to see you again and we look forward to seeing you at our wedding, as well. Tell Brittany we say hi." She gave Santana the biggest smile she could before she dropped the girls hand and mumbled for Quinn's ears only, "Let's get the hell out of here."

Neither girl hesitated to turn, but Rachel winced as she felt Santana's hand on her arm. "You're leaving?" Santana asked as her bottom lip trembled.

Quinn's eyes closed painfully as she fought off a whimper of protest. The idea of spending time with a _very _pregnant Santana didn't seem pleasing. "No. We're staying." She answered with a sigh.

Rachel pouted up at Quinn in despair. The blonde only shrugged back and shot Rachel a look that clearly said "What the hell was I supposed to say?"

But it was music to Santana's ears. The tears immediately stopped as she was smiling brightly. "I'll make a snack!"

A few minutes later, Rachel and Quinn were sitting on a lumpy couch in the small apartment as Santana moved about the kitchen a room over. "Who do you think the father is?" Rachel whispered, sitting as close to Quinn as possible.

Quinn blew out a breath and shook her head. "The possibilities are endless."

"But the studio said that she and Brittany were living together. I just assumed-"

"So did I. Who the hell knows, maybe they are."

"You don't think Santana would deceive Brittany into thinking…"

"The possibilities are endless, Rach, _endless_." Both girls grew quiet as Santana bustled into the room, still sniffling, but smiling widely.

"Would you like some help, Santana?" Rachel asked as she half rose from her seat. Santana waved her off and dropped a tray onto the coffee table in front of Quinn and Rachel, and both girls scooted to the edge of the couch to inspect the Ritz crackers and can of Easy Cheese that sat on top of it.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Santana raced off as fast as she could, and came back into the living room with a pitcher of something red inside. "Kool-Aid." She filled in with a smile before she took a seat in the armchair next to the couch.

"It looks…delicious." Quinn told Santana with a pained smile.

"A lovely spread." Rachel added as she bobbed her head.

"If I had known you were coming I would have told Brit to get Triscuits."

Both Rachel and Quinn hummed their fake disappointment and an awkward silence filled the room. Neither girl knew what to say or how to act, so they settled for staring down at their laps. That was until they heard Santana crying again. "You're not hungry." The girl whined as fresh tears fell.

"No! It's not that! We just had a really big lunch…"

"And we're both kind of vegan, and…" But Santana's sobs grew in volume until Rachel grabbed the Easy Cheese can and sprayed several crackers before shoveling them over to Quinn.

"Just eat them, just eat them." Rachel hissed to Quinn before she beamed up at Santana. "See? Quinn loves them, don't you Quinn?"

Quinn nodded as she shoved the crackers in her mouth, smiling and nodding as she rubbed her stomach in fake appreciation. "Yummy." For the moment, Santana looked appeased, and everyone grew quiet again.

"So…Santana," Rachel ventured, hoping to move the reunion along a little. "Where _is _Brittany?"

Santana pulled a tissue out of her cleavage and dabbed at her eyes. Thankfully, however, she was smiling at the mention of Brittany's name. "She teaches hip-hop and aerobics at the YMCA, Curves, and Anytime Fitness." Both Quinn and Rachel were happy to have found a topic that made Santana so happy. "She's at the Y right now."

"That's great, S."

"Yeah. She has the most popular classes." Santana said with a watery smile that showed her pride.

"And what do you do, Santana?" Instantly, Rachel knew she had said the wrong thing. The tears were back. The bad kind.

"I work at Lima Energy." Santana sobbed.

Panicking, Quinn and Rachel were quick to stop the crying. "S, that's a really great job."

"There is plenty of room for advancement!"

"It's steady and that's important."

"But we're having a baby!" Santana wailed as she blew her nose into a tissue.

"And that's _so _exciting, right Quinn?" Rachel asked as she nudged her fiancée. Quinn stuffed another cracker into her mouth and nodded vigorously.

The tears slowed and Santana smiled softly. "B's really excited." She hiccupped.

"As she should be." Rachel declared enthusiastically. As the silence stretched, Rachel was finding it difficult to leave her statement at just that. She twisted on the spot and bit her lip while Quinn forced cracker after cracker down. "And how exactly did you come by your pregnancy, Santana?"

Quinn groaned as she covered her face with her hands, extremely worried that Rachel's newest inquiry would set off further waterworks. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's fine, it's fine." Santana mumbled as she brushed away her remaining tears. "It's a happy story, actually." Santana grinned. She sprayed some cheese onto a cracker and stuffed it into her mouth. "My uncle died."

Rachel shook her head as she tried to catch up. "And…he was…_evil_?" Rachel asked as carefully as possible as she shrugged at Quinn. The blonde just shook her head miserably.

"He was a badass Lopez." Santana explained fondly as she swallowed down some Kool-Aid. "He was a doctor like my dad; plastics." Quinn nodded as she recalled where Santana got her D-cups in high school. "After I came out to my family, he was the only one that supported me and B. When he died," Santana's eyes welled up again but she quickly got a hold of herself. "He left B and I a shit-ton of money and his sperm."

Simultaneously, Quinn and Rachel cocked their heads at the recent development and their eyes narrowed, both silently wondering if they had, perhaps, misheard. Stuffing another cracker in her mouth, Santana continued. "B was really excited that we could have a baby together. And with the money he left us, we were able to swing the procedure."

"So…and I'm sorry for interrupting you here, but…are you…having your uncle's…baby."

Santana blanched. Slowly, her finger rose as her neck snapped. "Just because you and Q are related in some weird 'Who's your baby mama way,' _don't _mean me and Brits are down with that weird-ass shit."

Quinn and Rachel froze at the remark, but just as quickly as it came, Santana's attitude was gone and she was teary-eyed again. "I'm so sorry you guys! It's the hormones." Both girls smiled tightly as Santana blew her nose loudly. "We used B's egg and my baby maker. That way the kid has a little of both of us, ya know, because it's Lopez sperm."

Rachel smiled as she nodded. "That's basically what Quinn and I are going to do." Slowly, Quinn turned to look at her fiancée as her eyebrow rose. Rachel quickly caught her slip-up and cleared her throat. "Well that's a lovely story, Santana. You both must be thrilled."

More tears came as Santana nodded. "We are." She mumbled around a cracker. "I just don't know how we're going to afford it!"

Quinn rubbed her face as Santana's sobs echoed around the apartment. "You've got to be kidding me." She breathed out in exasperation to Rachel.

"We were just so excited that we could start a family together. Thank you," Santana said as Rachel passed her the box of tissues that was beside her. "The doctor told us the longer we waited the less chance it would happen for us because the nasty-shit can go bad, you know? And the odds of someone else just handing over their stuff to us would be slim, so we just went for it."

Rachel was nodding sagely. "That was really brave of you, Santana. And I've read all the books and they say the same thing: there is no _right _time to have kids."

"That's what we thought. And B is fucking through the moon so I don't say anything. But I'm always so tired and after I have the little fucker I won't be working and we'll need money and I can't make B quit teaching for a better job because she loves it so much, so we're just going to be broke with a kid!"

Quinn stared at Rachel pointedly, silently communicating to the diva that she was upset the subject ever got brought up, before she turned back to Santana. "S, just calm down for a second, okay?" Santana nodded miserably into her tissue. "I have a lot of connections in New York and even L.A. Brittany is so talented I'm _sure _I can-"

Santana's arms were around Quinn's neck before she could even finish the sentence. "Thank you so much, Q!" Rachel felt an arm hook around her neck before she was being pulled in to another awkward three-person hug. "I missed you guys so much! And I can't wait to watch you get married and give my speech and stand next you at the altar and plan your bachelorette party and…"

Quinn traded glances with Rachel—they both looked like they were ready to cry as well… in the bad way—as Santana continued to list all the fun things she was looking forward to.

They left the Lopez-Pierce residence not long after that. They were both exhausted and more than ready to just call it a day.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys about Santana, but honestly, I just completely forgot." Mercedes amended sheepishly. Quinn eyed her friend as she folded her arms.

"You forgot?" Mercedes shrugged. "You forgot that Santana Lopez is hugely pregnant with Brittany and her uncle's baby? That just slipped your mind?"

Again, Mercedes only shrugged. "But that's the worst of it. It's not like everyone else is a weeping mess like Santana."

Rachel slowly got off of Quinn's lap and stared down at Mercedes. "Oh really?"

"What?" Mercedes asked as her eyes shifted nervously.

Rachel placed her hands on the table and leaned forward. "_No one else_, Mercedes?"

"You two haven't seen everyone yet, right?" Mercedes asked hesitantly as she bit her lip, sinking into her chair fearfully.

X

Four hours earlier…

"I'm _so_ glad you guys are here! When I'm not working at the bank, I've been choreographing all these dances for Sam's boy band! You got to see them perform! Then Quinn, you can be our agent and we'll get a huge record deal and I'll travel on the road with them and make millions of dollars, and…"

Rachel and Quinn's wide eyes just stared at Mike as they forced their smiles to remain in place, periodically smiling and nodding at a proud Mrs. Chang as the old woman rocked in her seat.

X

Three and half hours ago…

"Perhaps I embellished a tad when I said I was a senior makeup artist. If you _must _know, I am a regional sales associate. But I'd be remiss if I didn't inform you that Avon is making a comeback. _Many _celebrities are turning to our vast catalogues for products and tips. Any day now, I'm sure, I'll be made senior VP in charge of designs and trends. Mark my words, they'll _rue _the day they ever made Kurt Hummel go door to door selling their trash! …You don't, perchance, need anyone to do your makeup for the wedding do you? I think it would be an _excellent _demonstration for my portfolio."

Kurt stared intently at the girls as he sipped on his margarita, and Quinn and Rachel traded panicked looks before turning back to him.

"Um, I don't see why we couldn't…?"

"I think our other makeup artist is really mean or something so…?"

"Fantastic. I know _exactly _what I want to do. It will be years in the making!" Kurt giggled as he kicked his legs up in his seat. Quinn and Rachel could only smile tightly back.

X

Two and a half hours ago…

"If you want me to keep my mouth shut, I'm going to need a crate of Mo's Dark Chocolate Bacon bars and I want to be the head of Mercedes' security detail when she makes it big. Deal?"

"Wait a minute…" Quinn said firmly as she held up her hand. Both Lauren and Rachel stared at her, waiting for the blonde to protest. "They make bacon-covered chocolate bars?"

"Mercedes, it was _a horror show! _Mike works at a bank and lives at home, Kurt works for freaking _Avon_, Lauren is a crossing guard and she _hates _children, Tina has a stutter for _real _now that she's teaching at Jane Adams, Sam is in a _boy band_, Brittany and Santana are basically impoverished with a child on the way, and Artie hasn't known the touch of a woman since Brittany! I know because he _told _us…five times!"

Mercedes bit her lip and avoided the girls' eyes. "So when are Matt, Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy getting into town?" She asked evasively.

"Why didn't you tell us? Everyone was so sad and pathetic! My freaking client list just _doubled_! I'm like, _the _agent for Lima, Ohio!"

"Sorry guys, we didn't all get out of Lima and hit it big. We're all just a bunch of normal twenty-one year olds finishing up college and looking for what to do next. While you guys were off _doing _something with your lives, we all had to struggle. I'm lucky, my parents are able to help me pay for college, but not everyone else has it so good. Our biggest problems aren't the paparazzi following us around or our old friends asking for help."

Rachel sighed as she collapsed back down on Quinn's lap tiredly. She suddenly felt _very _guilty. "We're sorry."

"Rach, you got nothing to be sorry for. You both worked _really _hard to get where you are and I'm so proud of you for that. And plus, Quinn told me she's got the head of New York's only recording studio coming out for the wedding to meet me. So we good as far as I'm concerned. Everyone else just needs a little help too."

Quinn's chin dropped to Rachel's shoulder miserably. "But I don't wanna help everyone else."

Mercedes laughed. "Tough. You wanna keep them quiet, meet their demands. And plus guys, we're not in high school anymore. They're not so bad."

Rachel looked over her shoulder at Quinn and smiled. They hadn't been that bad, in fact, everyone just seemed really excited to see them. Maybe it was because they were sorta famous, but it also seemed as though they had just missed them. High school _was _over, and both girls could agree that they no longer held a grudge towards any of the gleeks. "So you didn't mention Puck and Finn." Well…_most _of the gleeks.

Simultaneously, both girls sighed deeply. "We didn't even bother seeing Finn." That wasn't completely true.

X

Four and a half hours ago…

Rachel and Quinn reclined back against the car with their coffees warming their hands as they both stared straight ahead. "It's drizzling." Quinn muttered, mostly to herself, but Rachel heard and nodded.

"I know." They both simultaneously took a sip of their coffees as they stared. Rachel was wearing a bright yellow raincoat with matching galoshes and her blonde wig while Quinn was in her red wig and her white trench coat as she held a floral umbrella over their heads. They had only donned their disguises because neither was sure if they _actually _wanted to see Finn. So just in case, they had an out.

"It's probably going to rain for the wedding." Quinn mumbled evenly.

"Hmmm." Rachel sighed as she tilted her head, waiting for any kind of emotion to hit her as she watched her ex boyfriend work on a car in the garage at _Hummel & Son-Tires and Lube. _"Do you want to skip this and go see someone else?" Rachel asked calmly, not really in the mood to deal with Finn Hudson.

Quinn smiled with a shrug and escorted Rachel over to the passenger side of the car with the umbrella carefully covering them both. Once she was behind the wheel of the car, she looked over at Rachel and smiled. "He doesn't look so good." Rachel chuckled as Quinn put the car in drive.

"Just drive, Fabray."

"So you didn't even speak to the boy?"

Rachel shrugged and allowed Quinn to hold her closer. "Didn't really feel like it."

"What's the point?" Quinn added.

Mercedes chuckled as she shook her head. "Well I can't say I blame ya, after everything you two have gone through with him. But what about Puck?"

"Quinn doesn't want to see him."

"Ooohhh no, you don't get to say that." Quinn scolded. "I _said _I'd go see him-"

"You _said _you'd go see him while I visited Tina! That's _hardly _the same thing!"

"Well I didn't think it would be appropriate to have you there, I'm-"

"You don't _think _it would be appropriate because you _know _that he's going to pour his little heart out to you and you don't want to make him uncomfortable, but _I _don't think it's appropriate for you to be alone with him because _Puckerman_-"

"_You _just don't me to be alone with Puck because you think he'll try something and-"

"_I know _he'll try something that's why I thought you would want _me _there so-"

"You're not going within a hundred _feet _of Puck because he'll defiantly try something with you and-"

"Absolutely _absurd _that you feel that way! I don't see the harm if we're _both _there to make sure the other-"

"Both of us? Are you kidding? I won't be able to _stomach _listening to all the grotesque things I'm _sure _he'll say to us and-"

"Enough!" Quinn and Rachel's mouths shut tightly as they turned back to Mercedes. The girl's eyes had followed the argument back and forth until she finally needed to intercede. "You two already fight like an old married couple." She laughed. "Look, Rach, tomorrow you'll see Puck at the fitting, and _before _you freak out Quinn, I'll make sure Mike and Kurt keep a close eye on her. Then, later that day, you and me can go pay Puck a visit and I'll be there to protect your wifey, okay, Rach?"

Both girls nodded silently, happy that they had bodyguards for the uncomfortable situation. "I like that." Rachel stated with a smile.

"Good. It's a plan" Quinn mumbled as she draped Rachel's hair over one shoulder so she could place a soft kiss on the diva's neck. Rachel's eyes slammed shut and she urged her body not to go into over-drive.

"Um…no…not the plan. Well…the plan is amendable, I must admit. But I was actually referring to the nickname. Wifey. I like that."

Quinn giggled into Rachel neck, her lips brushing against tanned skin, and the diva fought off a moan of desire. "I don't think I see myself calling you wifey, Rach. Sorry."

"It's okay." Rachel said happily as she got up to take her I'm-sorry-your-lives-are-so-terrible-in-comparison-to-mine cookies out of the oven in an effort to get some distance between her and Quinn. "I was thinking more along the lines of calling _you _wifey."

Quinn reclined in her chair, her eyes solely on Rachel, as she bit her thumbnail to keep her smile from flying away.

Mercedes was too busy staring at Quinn's hand to see the adorable expression the blonde was wearing. "Girl, where the _hell _did you get that big-ass rock on your finger?"

"She got it from her wifey!" Rachel yelled back as she flipped her cookies off their tray.

X

The Berry men were already snoring—stuffed from their vegan pho with seitan that Quinn had made—as the girls finished up their folding and collapsed back onto the couch, exhausted. It had been a hell of a day. After only some slight fidgeting and adjusting, the girls were comfortable as they lay watching _My Girl Friday_, with Rachel pressed up against the back of the couch and Quinn pressed up against Rachel's front.

Charlene was expected soon, and although they were looking forward to seeing her, their eyes were getting heavy and the day was quickly catching up to them.

"Did you call the guy from the New York studio about Mercedes?" Rachel mumbled as her eyes grew heavy.

"Ugh, no. Thanks for reminding me." Quinn reached down to where her cell was in her purse on the floor and dialed the number while Rachel twirled her hair. As Quinn spoke to the man and set up his and Mercedes' meet at the wedding, Rachel allowed herself to just listen to Quinn's voice.

_Something has changed within me, something is not the same. _

_Stop singing. _

_I'm not alone here, right, Quinn's acting differently, correct?_

_She's definitely upped her touchy feely ratio. _

_But why? It doesn't make any sense. It's one thing to do it in front of Mercedes or our fathers-_

_That was a hell of a kiss she gave us!_

_And all because I did the dishes for her? Absurd. I'm sure our fathers didn't need to see that! But it's quite another to do it while we are alone. _

_Blocking our faces from the cameras…she was so close…_

_And this whole business surrounding Puck, I just don't understand it. Why would she ever think that I couldn't be trusted around him? _She's _the one he was in love with. _

_It doesn't make sense…Unless…_

_Unless what?_

_Oh, come on. I _know_ it's crossed your mind. _

_I'm not going there. _

_But-_

_No!_

"Hey, you okay?" Quinn was off the phone and staring at Rachel with concern. The diva cleared her throat and smiled.

"Perfectly fine."

Quinn appraised her for a moment, knowing that Rachel was lying but clearly not ready to talk about it, before she finally nodded and turned back to the movie. "What I miss?"

Before Rachel could explain, there was a soft knock on the door. "That will be Charlene." Rachel said as she wiggled out from behind Quinn to answer the door.

"Hello, darling!" Charlene gushed and planted a kiss on both Rachel's cheeks before sweeping into the house.

"It's great to see you, Charlene." Rachel smiled as she led the woman into the living room.

"What a charming house your fathers have, Rachel. I can just see a miniature you running all around causing havoc." Quinn stood to hug Charlene as Rachel rushed off to get her a bottle of water.

They all took their seats, Quinn and Rachel on the couch with Charlene on the recliner, and Charlene got down to business. "Okay. Everything is taken care of, so you have nothing at all to worry about. It will look _breathtaking _as will both of you. All I need is to have you quickly go over the seating chart and I can leave you alone to promptly crash…which is what you both look like you moments away from doing."

The girls gave Charlene tired smiles and Rachel accepted the seating chart. Charlene got up from her chair and ambled around the room looking from picture to picture. She looked slightly out of place at the moment in her floor-length white silk dress, especially considering both Quinn and Rachel were in pajamas, but she was happy to see the girls again and delighted at looking at pictures of Rachel over the years, with a few of Quinn mixed in; there were mostly pictures from Rachel's birthday evening in New York including the engagement.

"Everything looks good." Quinn eventually said. In truth, she hadn't really paid attention. All she cared about was the fact that she and Rachel would be sharing a sweetheart table—it would be just the two of them amongst a sea of guests.

"Yep, it looks perfect." Rachel agreed and handed the chart back over to Charlene.

Charlene frowned at the girls and cocked her head. "I suppose neither of you read the chart too carefully, did you?"

Rachel and Quinn traded unsure looks. "What makes you say that?" Rachel asked politely. She hadn't. She was far too tired to care where everyone sat. She would be sitting with Quinn and that's all that mattered.

"Take another look at table five. I'm sure you'll have a problem with who is sitting with your fathers, Rachel."

With furrowed brows, Rachel and Quinn bent their heads back over the chart.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!"


	15. Chapter 15 My Big Fat Glee Weddings

_It's long, I know. And I'm sorry to those who don't appreciate extremely long chapters, but I really didn't want to break it up. I'm sorry for the long wait and for all the mistakes but I'm exhausted and I'm sure I didn't even catch half. _

_This chapter is a belated birthday present for Emma, aka Queen Em. I really hope you all enjoy it and thank you for reading! Love ya guys! _

Chapter Fifteen: My Big Fat Glee Weddings

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!"

"See," Charlene stated loudly as she pushed off the Berrys' mantel and pointed at Quinn with a long, manicured finger. "_That's _the reaction I was expecting!"

"This is _not _happening!"

Rachel was far too upset to even register Quinn's loud outburst or the fact that the girl had jumped from her seat. Much later she'd question Quinn about her very specific slur of curses, but at that moment, as she blankly stared down at all the Fabrays seated at table five, she was only shocked.

Quinn's face was flushed with anger and her eyes ablaze. "This is _unacceptable! _They are _not _invited to the wedding! They are _not _invited to the reception. They are _not _invited _period! _I've made myself _very _clear about that!" Quinn was violently shaking where she stood and Charlene approached slowly.

"I didn't put them on the guest list, darling," The woman spoke soothingly. "And I cross-referenced the studio's list and they weren't on that either."

"Well what does that mean and how do we _stop _it?" Quinn demanded in a growl as her hands balled to fists at her sides.

Charlene ran her hands up and down Quinn's arms in hopes to loosen the tension from the girl's body. "It means that _they _went to the studio. And I'm assuming someone must have written it off to add to the drama of the day."

"That's complete _shit_, Charlene!"

"I know, Quinn. But this is hardly a royal wedding. In fact, the whole town could at least attend the wedding if they wanted to; security isn't exactly going to be top priority."

Quinn collapsed down onto the couch as she commanded herself to breathe. Her mind was whirling with the whys of it all. Why would her parents want to be there? Why would her sister and brother-in-law care? Why were they suddenly showing interest in Quinn's life after all this time? And why, after everything Quinn had said, were they even allowed to attend?

_They're doing this for publicity. _

_Everyone in town knows about this thing. _

_And of course they'd look bad if they weren't there. The family of the suddenly famous Quinn Fabray not in attendance? That wouldn't be socially appropriate. _

_Okay…think; allow them to be there and ignore them- _

_Or do everything in your power to keep them out and then end up looking like the bad guy. _

_With the camera crews there, Rachel and I would look like horrible people for keeping my well-meaning, proud parents, sister, and brother-in-law out. _

_It wouldn't matter that they kicked me out-_

_Twice-_

_All that would matter is that they were trying now and I am refusing them. _

_And I bet the studio would just looove a family reunion. Charlene is right, they pushed it through because of the drama. _

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it!_

_That was your last one of the day. _

_God, I hope you're right. _

It wasn't a decision she wanted to make, but she felt there was only one option. "Fine, whatever. They can be there."

Charlene blanched severely as her face scrunched up in confusion. "Quinn, how can you-"

Quinn intervened with a too casual shrug. "I'll look like a horrible daughter and sister if I refuse to invite them. They're only coming because it's a public event. I'd look like the monsters they are if I refused."

_And besides, I can honestly say that I truly don't care if I see them. Or not. Ever again. Rachel's my family. Her fathers are my family. Lydia, Jeremy, Mercedes...Jesse—sort of—Matt, Ainsley, Charlene…_they _are my family. _

Charlene nodded slowly. "But, Quinn-"

"Whatever, it's done. It doesn't mean I have to speak to them." Quinn stated evenly as she propped up her elbow against the back of the couch, her fingers buried in her hair, and her face the picture of indifference.

Charlene bit her lip as she nodded again, momentarily scared for what it could mean for Quinn, but proud that the girl was trying at least to be the better person. "If you insist, Quinn. But if you have any reservations, my phone is always on and I'd be more than happy to hire private security."

"I'll keep that in mind." Quinn said calmly, but already knowing that it wasn't an option. Charlene watched Quinn's mask as the girl looked around the room as though she didn't have a care in the world. The woman frowned as she tried to search for cracks and couldn't.

"And my mom?"

Quinn's head jerked towards Rachel. For the last tense minute, she had completely forgotten that the girl was there. But now, as she looked at Rachel's vulnerable expression, the way she was fighting off tears all while seemingly thirsty to know the answer, Quinn wondered how she could have ever forgotten. Rachel would glance down at the seating chart, scanning it thoroughly, before her eyes would dart up to Charlene for answers.

Charlene's gaze flicked towards Quinn's in desperation. It was enough of an answer for Rachel. "Oh." Rachel's shoulders dropped as she ducked her head, clearly disappointed by the news. All at once, Rachel seemed to steel herself for what was to come. She took a deep breath and planted a sympathetic smile on her face as she looked up at her fiancée. "We'll get through it, Quinn. We won't even acknowledge them. And if they dare to speak to you they'll hear from _me_." The diva said as she took Quinn's hand into her lap.

Quinn knew that she should be mirroring Rachel's smile, but she also knew that Rachel's smile was fake. Her eyes scanned Rachel's face as the girl tried to keep it from crumbling. "Rach-"

"It's fine, Quinn. I'm fine." Rachel proclaimed as she shook off Quinn's concern. Almost as though she were shaking off her emotions.

Charlene could sense that the moment had turned serious and she ought to leave. With a sympathetic smile for both her girls—two young women who had grown up too quickly—before she bent down and took Rachel into her arms.

"I will see you both tomorrow at the fittings." Charlene said motherly as she held Rachel tightly. "I can_not_ _wait _to see you in your gowns; you'll look so beautiful." When she pulled away, Rachel's eyes were watery and she quickly brushed a tear away before she cupped Rachel's chin. "No more tears. You're getting married soon!"

Rachel gave a watery chuckle and nodded before Charlene swooped down to hug Quinn. "I'm so excited to watch you two happy. And I'm so lucky I get to be a part of it." She brushed Quinn's tears away too before smooching in the air and waving goodbye to the two girls. "Sleep well, my loves."

As the front door softly closed, silence enveloped the room with intensity. Quinn was desperate to know what Rachel was thinking—_needed _to know—and turned to the girl, awaiting the worst. Almost hoping for the worst. She wanted Rachel to break down in her arms and sob her pain away because Shelby was yet again rejecting her.

But when she saw the sad smile on Rachel's lips, Quinn's eyes shut miserably. _She's not opening up. She doesn't trust me yet_.

Rachel stood and took Quinn's hand as she guided them up to her old bedroom. Without getting undressed, Rachel slipped under the covers and motioned for Quinn to do the same. Only with slight hesitation did Quinn follow, and soon they were lying on their sides, face to face, and silent.

Rachel's fingers brushed away Quinn's hair as the blonde just stared at her, begging her to open up. "I'm so sorry." Rachel whispered finally.

Quinn moved closer and threw her arms around Rachel. _Talk to me. _Please. Quinn's mind begged. The tears seemingly came out of nowhere. One minute they were dry and the next they were running a path down Rachel's neck.

Rachel whimpered and held Quinn tighter. "Oh, Quinn." Her fingers dug into the back of Quinn's head as she threaded through blonde curls soothingly. "I'm so sorry. _So, _so sorry."

Quinn cried for Rachel's pain as she clung to the girl and cried for her own. She just wanted Rachel to trust her. To hear what she had to say. She waited, listening hard over the sound of her own tears. But the only sounds Rachel made were ones of comforting sympathy as she tangled her legs with Quinn and held her closer.

Disheartened and suddenly exhausted, Quinn slowly pulled away. _Why don't you trust me? _Her hazel eyes scrutinized Rachel's soft expression as she searched in the dark for answers. _What more do I have to do? _

A soft finger swept a stray tear away from Quinn cheek as Rachel moved closer to her. "You know what I would love?" Rachel whispered, the ghost of a smile appearing. Quinn's shoulders briefly rose in question, too defeated to voice the expected question. "If at the wedding, we made it into one giant game."

Quinn's eyebrows scrunched in question as she looked at her fiancée. Suddenly, Rachel was beaming. "Wouldn't that be fun? We could make it into one big, giant drinking game!"

Quinn shook her head as she tried to catch up. "_What?_" She spat out, rather harshly. But Rachel didn't even notice the change in tone. She suddenly sat up and smiled broader.

"Oh my, God, this will be so much fun!" She clapped as she quickly situated herself so she was sitting Indian style.

"Rachel, what the hell are you talking about?" Quinn asked wearily as she rolled her head against her pillow and looked up at her fiancée in aggravation.

"Okay, so we want this day to be more about us, right?" Quinn nodded dully. "And we really aren't close to too many people that will be in attendance. And even if we _are _close to them—people like Mercedes, Jen and some of my other Julliard friends, Matt, my fathers—they aren't necessarily close to us. Meaning, they don't know our secret. Only Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy do, and I'm _sure _Jesse will be off doing his own thing and…well…you know Lydia and Jeremy. So we'll have to depend on each other to have tons of fun on our super awesome day!"

Quinn nodded slowly, her mouth slightly open and her eyebrow raised in question, as she just stared at Rachel. "So wouldn't it be fun if we turned the day into a drinking game?" Rachel clapped excitedly again, and again, Quinn just stared at her.

"_Quinn_!" Rachel whined, angry her fiancée wasn't catching up.

"What kind of drinking game?" Quinn answered back dryly, already not liking the idea of being drunk in front of a lot of people she didn't trust herself around. She could most certainly see herself screaming at her mother with the camera crew recording every second of it. But Rachel just wanted to see her blonde smile. She wanted to create a diversion for the day. Make light of a difficult situation.

"For instance," Rachel started with a smile. "Every time Mr. Schue cries…we drink."

"Rachel, we'll be drunk before the ceremony is even over."

Rachel swatted Quinn's thigh as she giggled. "Fine. It could be something less obvious. Like…every time Noah leers or suggest something that he better not suggest…we drink."

"_Again_…"

Rachel was laughing as she dove down to lie beside Quinn. "Then you think of something."

Quinn was quiet for a second as she thought. Making the day into a game sounding like a great way to get through it. And plus, it would be fun for her and Rachel to be connected through the game. Did it hurt that Rachel wasn't trusting Quinn enough to open up? It was _killing_ her. But she couldn't be angry at Rachel when it was Quinn's fault she was that way. And considering how closed-off Quinn was, she couldn't really blame Rachel. She'd just try to make it easier for her. And if Rachel wanted to turn the day into a drinking game…what was the harm?

"How about…every time," Rachel situated herself until they were face to face, noses almost touching. She smiled encouragingly at Quinn and waited. "How about every time Brittany says something completely random."

"Yes! Perfect. Okay, my turn. Every time Santana adds an S to something that doesn't grammatically need one."

Quinn chuckled softly and nodded. "Every time Ms. Sylvester insults us."

"Every time Sam applies chap stick."

"Every time Artie says something that doesn't racially suite him."

"Every time someone suggest singing."

"You know you're going to be the source of that one, correct?"

Rachel shrugged lightly as she smiled shyly. "I'll be too busy with you to sing."

Quinn's eyebrows contracted in question, the enormity of the comment not lost on Quinn, but Rachel had already moved on. "I'm so glad we hired the DJ. I honestly can't imagine how many of our fellow glee alum would attempt singing while intoxicated. You reminded Charlene is forbid the DJ to allow karaoke, correct?"

"Yeah." Quinn mumbled softly as her eyes grew heavy. "I made an amendment to the rule, though." She yawned into her hand as Rachel bounced beside her.

"That _I'm _allowed to sing?" Quinn chuckled and buried her face into her pillow.

"Yes, Rachel."

"Yay! Our wedding is going to _kick ass!_ Oh! I got one. Every time…Quinn? Are you still awake?"

"Yeah, Rach, I'm listening." Quinn mumbled quietly, eyes closed. She felt drained. She had a theory that Rachel fed off the energy of those around her. Or maybe it had just been a _really_ long day. She wanted to block the thought of seeing her parents out. She wanted to forget that Rachel wasn't opening up. Quinn just wanted to go to sleep.

"No more listening for you. Sleep. Tomorrow during our fittings we can text each other more drinking game rules! Okay? Quinn? You're already asleep, aren't you?"

X

The dark clouds overhead resembled an Impressionist painting and the wind whipped around both girls as they stood slouched against Rachel's fathers' car. They wore identical aviators—despite the darkened sky—that they had picked up at the 7/11 not far from the airport because they both misplaced their sunglasses during their mad dash from the camera crew the day before. Rachel's long hair was topped with a baseball hat she borrowed from her daddy while Quinn's floppy hat blew in the breeze. "How bad do you think it will rain for the wedding?"

"I'm extremely hopeful that it will be a massive downpour and no one will show."

"That still means they have to send gifts though, right?"

"They were invited, they must send gifts."

"I will pray to the rain gods."

Quinn blindly passed over the Slushie she had been sipping on to Rachel who held the straw between her teeth before sucking. "It's taking them an awfully long time to get off the plane. What do you believe the holdup is?"

"Rachel…it's _them_. It could be anything." Rachel hummed her agreement. "By the way, you look gorgeous." Rachel's head nearly spun off her neck as she turned to glance wide-eyed up at Quinn. "Finally." Quinn huffed, not even looking at Rachel, but staring at the plane where Jeremy was carefully walking down the airplane's steps with a giant crate in his hands. "Yay! They brought Trevor." Quinn clapped softly as she beamed.

Suddenly, Quinn was skipping towards the plane leaving Rachel to gape dramatically after her. The sounds of Quinn's loud squeals of joy echoed around the empty tarmac as Trevor bounced and jumped circles around a laughing Quinn the second he was out of his cage.

Rachel watched as Quinn was brought into a bear hug by Jeremy. She was still wearing her shocked face as she felt Trevor nudge her into a stumble. On his hind legs, Trevor towered over Rachel and she laughed happily as the dog threw his arms around her as though giving her a hug.

"How are the dogs?" Quinn asked Lydia immediately, the dark-haired girl barely off the plane.

"Fine." Lydia mumbled as she heaved her bag over her shoulder. "Alive. Well. The boys are watching them." "The boys" were Jeremy's friends who Quinn had recently hired. They were all much like Jeremy.

Quinn nodded her pleasure, happy everything was okay with her business. It wasn't like she hadn't checked in. She routinely sent a text or called Lydia or Jeremy every chance she got.

Without exchanging hugs, she and Lydia nodded formally at one another, before Lydia followed after Jeremy to greet Rachel. An old couple helped each other off the plane and gave Quinn warm smiles even though they didn't know each other. Jesse was next.

Once he framed the door of the airplane he inhaled the air deeply and frowned. "I miss the smell of urine." Although crude, Quinn nodded in understanding. She missed New York, too.

His eyes flicked down to Quinn and he smiled smugly. "Ms. Fabray."

"St. James." Quinn answered automatically as he made his way down the four steps to the tarmac. They walked side by side toward the car where Lydia, Jeremy, Trevor, and Rachel were grouped, taking long strides that resembled a purposeful march. Blindly, Quinn took out the bundle of papers in her purse and passed them to Jesse.

"Did you read it?"

"Last night. You're doing it." Jesse glanced at the script and frowned at the title on the first page.

"_Withstand?_"

"You get to carry a musket." A wide grin appeared on Jesse's face as his eyes twinkled.

"_Excellent_." Jesse dropped his bags and the script just before he scooped Rachel up in his arms. "There's the diva!" He spun her around a few times, enjoying her laughter, as Jeremy and Quinn talked business.

"Oscar says hi and he wanted me to tell you that he misses you." Quinn rolled her eyes as she absentmindedly scratched Trevor's big head. Oscar is a German Sheppard.

"What else?"

"Thumbkin is no longer on her meds."

Quinn nodded. "Good."

"And Ms. Landry wants us to watch the litter when you get back from the honeymoon. She only wants you and Rachel to do it and she's putting off her vacation until you get back."

"I'll call her today."

"She apologizes she couldn't make the wedding but her hip is still acting up."

"I'll send her some flowers. Is that it?"

"Everything is good."

Quinn expelled her relief and smiled softly at the boy. "Thanks, Jeremy." The boy smiled sheepishly until Quinn chuckled and swatted his shoulder. "We need to get to the fittings."

She turned to Rachel, who was facing Lydia and Jesse, and cupped her cheek until Rachel was looking up at her and their lips met. "Ready?" Quinn mumbled against Rachel's mouth.

They were standing very close and Rachel was aware of the three sets of eyes watching the scene. She nodded dumbly as she stared up at Quinn. It wasn't rare for her and Quinn to exchange kisses when saying hello or goodbye—they had been doing it for almost two years. But this was an "are you ready" kiss. They were about to spend the next half hour in the car together. No one was going anywhere. The kiss, in Rachel's reality, wasn't needed, however desired it was.

"Then let's go."

It was a tight fit. Jesse, Lydia, Jeremy, Trevor, and all their bags were squeezed into the backseat as Rachel sat shotgun holding Quinn's hand as the blonde drove. The boys were meeting with Rachel at the tuxedo store in Lima, while Quinn would be in the town over at the Bridal store with the girls. Since Quinn and Rachel properly persuaded their old friends not to talk to the cameras and Quinn _really _didn't want to do any interviews, only Rachel would be meeting with the film crew.

Shiloh would be representing the studio at the fittings while Charlene would bounce back and forth to make sure Quinn and Rachel were fully represented. With three people apiece in the wedding parties and the other gleeks there to catch up with one another and watch, it was going to be a hectic affair.

"I'll try to race over for your interview but I think things are going to run over with the girls. Call me or text me if you need anything, though." Quinn mumbled to Rachel as she leaned over the center console of the car to address her fiancée privately. Outside the car, Jeremy was walking Trevor as Jesse leaned up against the store waiting. Rachel could just make out Sam and Artie inside the store and bit her lip nervously as she realized she'd be seeing Noah Puckerman for the first time in years.

"I may be texting you a lot."

Quinn smiled, sensing Rachel's anxiety. "Do you want me to come in with you to break the ice?"

Rachel nodded with a pout, but quickly brushed it away. "I'll be fine. I'm sure Jesse, Kurt, and Jeremy will protect me if Noah challenges me to a duel or something. And hopefully Matt will be arriving shortly." Matt Rutherford arrived in Lima the day before but was catching up with his family. He promised both Quinn and Rachel he'd make the fittings to quell their anxiety.

Quinn giggled and leaned back against the head rest, eyes on Rachel. "And do you think you'll be prepared for this duel? She I be worried?" Quinn asked with a playful smile that caused Rachel to blush.

"I will defend your honor."

Quinn returned Rachel's grin before her face sobered and she slid on her sunglasses. "You better, because I do _not_ belong to Noah Puckerman. So kick his ass."

Rachel blanched at the subtle comment. _Doesn't belong to Noah Puckerman? _

_Does that mean she belongs to us? _

_Should we ask? _

_She's just smirking at us! _

_Why does she look so pleased?_

"Could we hurry this along? I'm so _bored_." Lydia complained in a mumble from the backseat.

Both Rachel and Quinn smiled at one another softly. "See you later?"

"I hope so." Quinn promised before she leaned over and gently touched her lips to Rachel's.

Rachel held off her shiver and took in Quinn's smile for a moment longer before she exited the car.

"Rach? I've been thinking." Rachel was still staring through the car window at Quinn as the blonde waited for Rachel to enter the store. "There are going to be a lot of celebrities at the wedding, right?"

Rachel nodded absentmindedly at Jeremy's question as she continued to look at Quinn. Quinn's hazel eyes held her in place and she really wished that they weren't being separated.

"Do you think Walken is going to be there? Because I brought my autograph book just in case."

"Yeah, Jer, Quinn invited Christopher Walken for you." Rachel finally managed to get out as she walked around the car to enter the store.

"Sweet! Dwayne is _so _going to be jealous." Jeremy sang out as he tired Trevor to a poll outside the storefront.

But Rachel wasn't listening. Her thoughts were crowding her brain and she really needed to shake off her headache to prepare for the fitting and the upcoming interview. It was going to be a long day. And she may have a pending duel to contend with on top of it all.

X

"Quinn! _There _you are! Girl, you got _a lot _of explaining to do!" Quinn blew out a breath, not even entirely in the bridal shop yet, and counted to ten before lifted her gaze to an irate Mercedes and an equally pissed Santana. Both girls were staring her down—Mercedes with her hand on her jutted hip and Santana folding her arms across her chest, just above her huge belly—and Quinn prayed for minimal bloodshed. _Great, they know. _

Mercedes, her first maid of honor, was dethroned in favor a more "audience friendly" Santana. But Santana was seven and a half months pregnant, so she longer fit the bill either. Quinn had just shook her head and promptly hung up on Shiloh when the agent told her the news.

Quinn glanced at Lydia, who was already off searching the store in her own little world, and slowly walked up to her two bridesmaids. "San, where's Britt?" Quinn breathed out, hoping the other blonde was there to keep Santana in line.

Brittany suddenly appeared, walking out of a dressing room, looking down at her wedding dress-clad body with a smile. "I want this one." She told Santana before her eyes found Quinn. Quinn smiled just as Brittany ran and leapt into Quinn's arms, holding on tight and talking a mile a minute.

Over Brittany's shoulder, as the excited girl babbled away, Quinn saw Mercedes and Santana trade draggers. With one more tight hug for Brittany, Quinn set the girl down. "Hey, B."

"Q, I knocked up San!" Brittany thrust her fist in the air and nodded her head, getting Quinn to laugh.

"So I've heard. Congratulations, B. I'm so happy for you guys."

"Doesn't she look smokin' though. I tap that." Quinn laughed again and was pleased to see Santana's face alter drastically. She was suddenly smiling as she stared at Brittany with a mixture of pride, love, and amusement. Brittany, as it turned out, was her current maid of honor. Who knew if that would last. "San, I want this one." Brittany told her girlfriend as she checked herself out in front of the mirror, running her hands down the wedding dress she wore.

"B, only the bride gets to wear a wedding dress." Santana told her girlfriend as she moved behind her, chin on Brittany's shoulder, as they stared into the reflection together.

"But you said that Rachel got to wear one too. So if both Quinn and Rachel are wearing a wedding dress, why can't I?"

"Because, Britt, they're getting married. You have to be getting married to wear a wedding dress." Mercedes huffed out, eager to get to the whole maid of honor discussion.

"Then I want to get married." Brittany shrugged as she swished the bottom of the dress back and forth. Behind her, Santana's face lit up.

"B, you said you didn't understand why people got married. That they could just live together and be in love."

Brittany shrugged again. "Well now I know. To wear the dress." Brittany turned to the nearest sales assistant. "We'll take two of these."

Santana laughed and shook her head to tell the woman Brittany wasn't serious. Even if she was. "We can't afford that now, B. But real soon, I swear. Okay?"

Brittany shrugged, her eyes still glued to her appearance. "Whatever. I look so hot."

"Yeah, you do." Santana whispered as she brushed Brittany's hair aside to expose her neck before she placed kisses along the column.

"That's all well and great and everything, but why the _hell _aren't I maid of honor anymore!" Mercedes demanded.

The door chimed and Lauren and Tina hurried into the shop. Apparently it had started to rain, and both girls were drenched. Quinn quickly approached Mercedes and pulled her friend aside, away from everyone else.

At the harried look on Quinn's face, Mercedes softened, but remained quiet as she waited for the explanation. "Mercedes, believe me when I tell you _you're _my maid of honor."

"Then why is Santana throwing you the party and why did the studio tell Brittany she is?"

Quinn smiled sympathetically at Mercedes as she took her hand. "Because Santana is pregnant and scary and she wants to throw one for me. And Brittany was told that because the studio is full of idiots." Quinn glanced down at the floor before looking back up at her friend. "They are letting my parents and sister come."

Mercedes' mouth dropped open as she stared at Quinn in shock. "So I'm going to need my best friend there. Don't worry about what anyone says. _You're _my maid of honor. We're just going to let Santana throw the bachelorette party so she doesn't drown us all in her tears, but come the wedding, _you'll _be beside me."

Mercedes grinned and nodded. "Sound good, Quinn."

"Thank you." Quinn smiled and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I need all the sane people I can get around me. So far, you're the only one on the list. I'm so not on that list." Quinn paused for a moment as she considered. "And certainly neither is Rachel."

Mercedes laughed before she hugged Quinn tightly. "Neither one of you can be sane if you're both crazy in love!"

Quinn grinned as they pulled out of the hug and quickly directed their attention to Tina and Lauren. Soon, all the girls were modeling different dresses while Charlene took fast measurements and Shiloh stood quietly in the background. It was hectic. The girls were loud and chatty. Lydia and Lauren found common interests with wrestling while Tina and Mercedes cooed over the wedding gowns. Brittany's presence was important because not one tear formed in Santana's eyes with her girlfriend around. Quinn just sat back and let everyone laugh and talk as she thought about Rachel. She wished she was there. To sit next to her. Or join in on the fun conversations going around the bridal shop. Or even to just boss people around. She already missed Rachel.

And Rachel missed Quinn, too…_greatly_.

When she had entered the tuxedo store with Jesse and Jeremy trailing her, the first thing she saw was Kurt standing by, annoyed, while Mike, Artie, Sam—and thankfully—Matt, all wearing top hats with canes in their hands, danced around like dorks. At the sight of Rachel, however, Matt dropped his cane and ran to hug her.

"Hey!" Matt shouted as he twirled her around, making Rachel laugh in excitement.

"I thought you weren't coming until later!" He sat her down carefully and shook hands with Jeremy and Jesse before replying.

"I was tired of all my aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins and _third _cousins asking me about the "movie industry." Matt laughed and Rachel joined in.

"Well I'm glad you're here." She beamed up at him. She quickly traded hugs with Sam, Mike, Kurt, and Artie before getting the salesman's attention. Soon, Kurt and Mike were getting fitted for their tuxes as Rachel helped the other boys find suites for the day. Everyone wanted to look their absolute best for the camera crew and the celebrities that were coming. Especially since Quinn and Rachel had promised Sam and Mike they'd introduce them to their New York music guy to promote Sam's boyband.

"Where's Puckerman?" Jesse asked lazily as the tailor worked on his suit. Rachel shrugged sadly and blew out a breath. No, she wasn't excited to see Puck. She was marrying the woman Puck felt so connected to; the woman he loved. And of course because of senior year.

The word on the street was that Puck wasn't seeing anyone seriously. But no one really knew for sure. Everyone sort of lost touch with him and that worried Rachel. She always had a special place in her heart for Puck. For a while he had been the only one who had stuck up for her; he was the only one in her corner.

But when Rachel and Finn got back together senior year, all her friendships sort of fell apart. Her two closest friends within glee club at that time, Mercedes and Kurt, quickly grew weary of how poorly Finn had treated Rachel and how she never stood up for herself. Soon, Rachel was always spending time with Finn. Supporting Finn. Letting her friendships fall away.

The end of Finn and Puck's friends, and incidentally, Puck and Rachel's, came not far into senior year. Puck was tired of Finn's holier-than-thou attitude, and hated how the boy treated Rachel. It came to blows and at the end of the day, Rachel stood with Finn.

She had so many regrets.

But as she stood in the store, as the boys laughed and joked around in their formalwear, Rachel was starting to let it all go. It was the past, and it seemed like everyone was keeping it there. Perhaps, except, Noah Puckerman.

Shiloh had arrived not long ago and the agent was already trying to figure out who Noah's alternate would be, but then the chimes on the door sounded.

"Sorry, I'm late. I know. Don't kill me. I, like, had tons of shit to get done and then there was this huge accident that I totally didn't start, and I'm sorry. Now where's my girl?" Rachel was beaming before the bells on the door even silenced. The sight of Noah Puckerman standing there with his big grin, his head freshly shaved, and his arms spread open for her made her squeal inside…and out.

He held her close as she squeezed the life out of him and instant relief flooded her. _He doesn't hate me! _

No. In fact, it was just the opposite. It quickly came out that Puck had seen both of Rachel's movies dozens of times in the theatre. He was already planning to come see _Wink and a Nod _on Broadway, and he apparently told anyone that would listen about Rachel's fame and how he used to know her and Quinn.

Once Puck had said it, soon enough, all the boys were going on about Rachel's movies. They gushed to Matt about how they made _A Date a Month _a total "None chick bore-fest," and raved about Rachel's "Mega-badass" performance in _Which of You, I Love. _

Rachel was pretty sure she cried the whole hour they were there.

But Puck brought champagne and orange juice to the event because he read online that you did those things for wedding stuff, and soon enough everyone was reminiscing and catching up properly.

"I thought you'd be mad at me, Noah." Rachel pouted, a few mimosas deep. She hiccupped as she watched him pour her another and smiled.

"How could I hate my favorite Jew? You're living the badass life and you got a badass girl with ya."

"But you _loved_ her, Noah."

Puck brushed it aside with a shrug. "I'm me, chicklet, I love all babes. No worries about the Puckster, I'm living large. I blew out my knee playing JV at Ohio State and realized working the grill at the Student Union that I'm a kickass chef. I'm working my butt off in school and gettin' on my business degree so I can open me up a BBQ restaurant where all the honies will want to come taste Puckasaurus' special sauce."

Rachel laughed and her smile wouldn't go away. It was so Puck. He seemed to be doing really well and assured her that everything turned out for the best. "Besides," Puck shrugged as he topped off his own drink. "I realized some stuff over the last two years."

"What's that, Noah?"

"I thought because of Beth that Quinn and I were supposed to end up together or something ridiculous like that. Like, she was this perfect girl and if she liked me than I guess I was all right or something. But really, the whole point of us getting together was _because _of Beth. And it's because of Beth I want to make something of myself. So, if one day, she wants to find me, she'll be proud of her old dad."

Yep, Rachel was pretty sure she cried for an hour straight. The makeup artist for Rachel's interview was none too pleased. But Rachel didn't care. It had been such a fun day and she was now really excited for her bachelorette party. She was, however, greatly relieved that Kurt would be planning it and not Noah. She had gotten considerably wasted during the fitting and Shiloh damn near had a heart attack when Rachel was still drunk for her interview.

She sat in the chair, wobbling slightly, as everyone bustled around her setting up. In her hands her phone chimed and she looked down and smiled at the sight of Quinn's name.

_Please tell me you're not drunk-Q. _

Rachel giggled and quickly texted back. _Fine, I won't tell you ;)-R_

_A wink face, huh? You must be drunk! I'll KILL Puck!-Q_

_Ohhh, don't you worry about him. We're bffs! Yay!-R_

_He doesn't hate me, Quinn! I'm still his favorite Jew! Yay!-R_

_Lol, good I'm glad. So you had fun?-Q_

_SO much fun! How about you?-R_

_I did, actually. Everyone is so excited. But Santana is making me go to a strip club for the bach party :(-Q_

_She's pulling the pregnant card and cried buckets when I said I didn't want a lap dance-Q_

_It took Brittany twenty minutes and me agreeing to calm her down-Q_

_Well that is unacceptable!-R_

Rachel was _not _down with Quinn having another girl on top of her!

_Ew, I REALLY don't want a lap dance!-Q_

_But enough about that. Tell me more about your day-Q_

_Boys can be silly!-R_

_I had a lot of fun with them. They all grew up and it was just really nice :)-R_

_:( What about girls? We're not so bad either-Q_

_You still like girls, right?-Q_

Rachel hiccupped extra loud when she read the text. And then reread the text over and over to find the subtext. She was pretty sure there was subtext.

_Yes.-R_

Rachel wasn't entirely sure if she should put more. Or follow that up with something witty or charming or flirty. She _definitely_ sure there was subtext!

_You better. I'd pout for a very long time if that wasn't the case-Q_

Rachel was quickly pulling the nearest lighting guy over to read Quinn's texts. "That's subtext, right? She's flirting correct?" The guy pushed his glasses up and shrugged, slightly scared of the manic look in Rachel's eyes.

"I guess."

Rachel collapsed back down in her chair as some guy started working on her hair. She showed him the texts as well and he confirmed there was _definite _subtext.

Listening closely to her hairstylist, Rachel typed exactly what the man had said back to Quinn.

_Well we can't have that sexy pout of yours ;)-R_

Across town, Quinn smirked at the text and bit her lip.

_My sexy pout? It can't compare to yours.-Q_

"Oh yeah, honey, she's flirting with you." The stylish said and Rachel squealed. But then the crew was set up and Rachel needed to go.

_I'm still mad you're not doing this interview with me, Fabray. I'm sexy pouting over here!-R_

_Well now I'm really sad I'm missing it! Good luck, superstar, and see you at home-Q_

Needless to say, between her elation over her friendship with Puck restored, the alcohol in her system, and the flirty texts, Rachel took some liberties in her interview. If Quinn didn't want to do the interview with Rachel, she'd pay the price. And then there was that drunken decision she made shortly after the interview…but more on that later.

X

Day three in Lima was, thankfully, mundane for Quinn and Rachel. Charlene and Shiloh had everything under control. Everyone was excited and set for the wedding. And Rachel was blissfully distracted from thoughts of Shelby.

In fact, day three was just _nice_. Her fathers had taken off from work until the wedding, so the four of them lounged around the house, watching movies, playing games, catching up on their school work, eating Quinn's cooking, and enjoying their time together.

"So where are you staying tomorrow night, Quinn? I'm guessing you won't be going to your parents'."

Quinn turned away from the screen to face Rachel's dad and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, sweetheart, you can't stay here! It's the night before the wedding!" Rachel's daddy beamed excitedly. Rachel and Quinn exchanged panicked looks at the thought of not spending the night together. They hadn't done that since the five days they didn't talk. Five days apart in two years. And neither one of them enjoyed those five days.

"Um…I guess I could crash at Mercedes'?"

"That's a lovely idea!" Rachel's dad smiled before helping himself to more of the pitas Quinn had made as a snack.

Rachel didn't say anything, however. And neither did Quinn. It was tradition, right?

X

Rachel was pacing. Furiously pacing. She felt like her head was going to explode. She was _sure _her head was going to explode! Soon after her interview and her drunken arrangement, she had called Jesse and demanded he stop by. She was sober now. Sober and missing Quinn. And everything was starting to weigh on her.

"Jesse, I have something very important that I need to discuss with you. Please take a seat." Jesse's eyebrow rose slowly before he smirked and sat cross-legged on the couch.

"What would you like to discuss, Rach?" Instead of answering, Rachel began to pace the length of the living room, fidgeting spectacularly, and mumbling quietly to herself.

Jesse watched on, amused. Finally, Rachel seemed to end her internal debate and stopped abruptly in front of the boy. "What I'm about to say to you is both highly shocking and decidedly classified. You must tell _no one _of what we speak of today. Understand?"

Curiosity peaked; Jesse sat up a little straighter and nodded. Rachel began pacing once more as she bit her thumb nail. "I understand that this may be hard to grasp," Rachel began, voice shaking slightly. "And in all likelihood, you won't believe me. I will go on the record in assuring you that what I'm about to disclose is entirely true butI only have circumstantial evidence to stake my claim."

Jesse huffed and folded his arms across his chest. "Just come out with it, Rachel."

She stopped her anxious pacing and frowned heavily at the boy before she stomped her foot. "Jesse, can you _please_ allow me the proper buildup an important revelation requires."

"I'm sorry, Rachel." Jesse amended with a sudden somber expression. He knew that a proper build up was essential. "That was very insensitive of me. Please continue."

"Thank you." The pacing continued and Rachel took a deep breath. "As I was saying, this will come as a surprise. I realize that, for the most part, I wear my heart on my sleeve and that most of my feelings are easily read on my face. This, however, is not one of those times."

Jesse nodded, face set in concern, as he watched Rachel stumble over her words. "I think it's best that you brace yourself for what I'm about to say." She mumbled with a nervous chuckle, pacing back and forth as her fists clenched down at her sides. "And feel free to react however you see fit out of astonishment." Jesse bobbed his head, mouth slightly open.

He couldn't even imagine what she was about to tell him. "Are you ready for this?" She asked gravely as she finally stood still in front of him. He swallowed hard and prepared to be stunned. "Jesse…" Rachel took a deep breath as she shut her eyes and then blew it out slowly before peering down at the boy. "I'm in love with Quinn."

Jesse's eyes narrowed in confusion as his mouth twisted thoughtfully. This, he was _not _expecting. She stared down at him, slightly wide-eyed, waiting for him to react. But all Jesse could manage to do was shift a little on the couch and stare up at her.

"Jesse," Rachel pleaded in a small voice. "Please say something." He felt like laughing. He felt like letting out explosive laughter right in her face. But he swallowed it down and adopted an expression of complete shock.

"Stunned." He forced out.

"I know." She nodded sagely.

"This is brand new information."

"It's going to take a moment for it to fully sink in."

"I'm shocked."

"Let it out."

"Never saw it coming."

"I can understand."

"So is that it? Because I met this woman at the bar last night and I _think _I can get her to be my date for the wedding." Jesse said as he tucked his bottom lip under his teeth in excitement.

Rachel frowned and placed her hands on her hips. "But-but there's _more_!" She pouted as she stomped her foot.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Jesse apologized as he placed his hands on his knees. "Please continue." Rachel frowned again.

"I think…and you'll need to brace yourself again." Jesse nodded. "I think that—I'm pretty sure…Quinn has feelings for me as well."

Jesse blinked back at Rachel blankly as she waited. Suddenly, Jesse was off the couch as striding towards the front door. "Jesse!"

Jesse whipped around, his smile exploding, as he barely managed not to laugh out-right. "Rachel!"

"You're not going to say anything?"

"Rachel, what do you want me to say, huh? You're acting like I'm supposed to be _surprised! _For crying out loud, I know you're dramatic, but…Rach, I've known for _months_!" He exclaimed as he threw up his arms in exasperation.

"Would you stop it! Just _stop _it!" Rachel suddenly screamed as she advanced on him. Jesse's face slacked at the intense anger Rachel was displaying and stood straighter as his smile vanished completely. "Oh it's _so _easy for you, Jesse St. James." Rachel accused as she stood toe to toe with him. "_You _weren't there! _You _weren't there for any of it!" She poked his chest to drive her point home.

"You didn't _see _how terrible it was for me. All of it! You weren't there when he broke my heart time and time again! You weren't there when she _left _me, _left me_ like I was just a _stranger! _Replaced me! And you couldn't understand how much it hurt that _no one _cared!

"It's so easy for you to stand there and make me feel like a fool because you never once actually saw how destroyed I was. And then Quinn…She built me up and made me feel like I was actually special. It was like the first time I saw _Peter Pan _and loved it until someone pointed out the strings.

"Only this time, _this _time I couldn't walk away. I couldn't hold my head up high because she was all I wanted it and I didn't even care what she did. It was like high school and Finn Hudson all over again and I refused to beg like I had. So I just pretended like it didn't matter and I went along with it all anyway because she still looked at me like it was all real. I physically felt done fighting the possibility that I could be happy!

"So me, admitting all of this, opening myself up to allow yet another Slushie to be tossed in my face? This is a big deal. So, for _once _in your life, Jesse St. James, be the man I know you can be and actually _feel _something. Stand here and be my best friend and tell me that it will be okay and that I'm worth this and that Quinn could actually love me back and that marrying her, going through with tomorrow isn't the biggest joke in the world! Because I'm this close to losing it, and I really need someone right now that won't judge me."

She was sobbing. Her shoulders shook with the weight of it all and Jesse just stood there as his mouth opened and closed in amazement. "Rachel, I-"

"Jesse, I'm so _scared _to hurt again. This is Quinn Fabray. The Quinn Fabray who once hated me and I'm in love with her!"

"The wedding-"

"Oh, I don't care about the stupid wedding. I care that what it _means_. It's like it _just _hit me that I'm about to tether myself to the one person who can hurt me the most. That I'm having a fake wedding with the one person who I actually _want _to tether myself to. And she doesn't know! She doesn't _know _Jesse!"

Jesse was quite as he stared at his feet. Rachel cried silently in front of him, hiccupping and sputtering. "She knows."

Rachel's tears stopped abruptly as she jerked her gaze to his downcast eyes. "Wh-what?"

"She knows, Rachel." Jesse mumbled painfully as he glanced up at her. "Quinn knows." Rachel stumbled back a little as her hand went to her heart.

"How?" She whispered in shock.

"Well you're pretty obvious about it, Rach. The way you look at her. The way you act. And why wouldn't she know? You're a marvelous actress, Rachel, but you _do _wear your heart on your sleeve."

Rachel's eyes shifted around the living room as she tried to grasp it all. "Think about everything you've gone through, Rach. Think about how you've acted together. The kissing and all the affection. Do you honestly believe that Quinn Fabray would have done any of that if she didn't have feelings for you?"

"Feelings? But-but she's _marrying _me!"

"I know!"

"She-she likes-. Jesse, she _likes _me?"

Jesse just stared at her, his eyes confirming her question.

Rachel was shaking her head as tears welled in her eyes yet again. "No, Jesse, no I'm not ready for all of this!"

"You're not ready for what? Her? Marriage?"

"Being in love!" Jesse threw up his arms again and turned away from Rachel as he mumbled to himself.

"You _are _Rachel! She's not pressuring you. She's not forcing her feelings on you. She's _waiting _for _you _to be ready! _That's _why she hasn't said anything. You don't have to be ready for _anything_!"

"We're getting married tomorrow!"

"Yes." Jesse breathed out as he approached her, cupping her cheeks softly as he smiled down at her. "You're marrying your best friend who loves you more than you'll ever know. She waiting patiently until you can love her back. She's doing this all for you and the only thing she's asking for in return is for you to try."

Rachel swallowed back more tears as she nodded along with Jesse. "I can try." She answered in a small voice.

"Of course you can. You're Rachel Berry and you'll do better than try. You'll succeed. You'll take it all one step at a time. This is all just pre-wedding jitters. Cold feet." He said with a playful smile that got her to laugh a little through a sob.

She took a deep breath and Jesse dropped his hands down to her shoulders. "What's going through that head of yours, Rachel Berry?" He asked.

"Oooohhh boy," Rachel chuckled as she quickly wiped away her tears and looked up at Jesse with a smile. "I'm thinking…I'm thinking that I've been blind."

"Rach you haven't been blind. You just weren't ready to see what was in front of you."

Rachel covered her smile with her hands and she shook her head in amazement. "I feel tremendous pressure to tell her everything and I'm just not ready, Jesse. I just can't tell her how much I love her when this is all so new. I didn't even know she liked girls, and now suddenly she's in love with me!"

"Personally I've always thought that she's incredibly gay." Rachel swatted his shoulder as she smiled.

"Behave."

"Rachel, she's pretty gay."

"Stop."

"I'm just saying." Jesse conceded with a shrug. He bit his lip as he appraised out of one eye. "You going to be okay?"

Rachel took a deep breath and sighed. "I don't want to hurt her either, Jesse. It's not fair that I love her and can't tell her. She has a right to know."

"She knows, Rachel. Maybe if you showed her that you're moving in the right direction she'll continue to wait patiently."

"But, Jesse, she's been so amazing to me and I really don't think that it would be fair."

"The fact of the matter is, Rachel, you haven't had a lot of fair in your life either. She was a bitch to you in high school and lied to you to get out of Lima. Those are truths. She used you. And now this is her making up for all of that. She hurt you, she knows it, and now all she can do it hope that you'll be able to forgive her."

"But I _do _forgive her."

"Do you? Are you positive about that?"

"Yes." Rachel answered firmly. "She has proven that she wants to make up for it and I believe in that."

"Then why aren't you telling her all of this?" Rachel looked away as she closed her eyes as though in pain.

"Okay. I forgive my best friend Quinn for what she did. I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to fly right passed a courtship and enter into a marriage with a girl who I _just _found out likes me."

"If you want to call off the wedding-"

Rachel waved her hand impatiently to dismiss him. "If Quinn feels even an ounce of what I do for her, marriage is inevitable. And tomorrow isn't just about us. There are many, many people to keep in mind. Knowing what I do now, that Quinn loves me and is willing to wait until I get over…_everything, _I feel immensely better. Now I just need to see her. To see her face and know that she actually cares for me."

"She's a bit busy at the moment. And we're late for our night, too." Rachel was quiet as she took it all in.

"Jesse…does she _really_ love me?"

"She does, Rach. And she has every reason to." Jesse smiled.

"Thank you, Jesse."

"I'm sorry I laughed at you before. I didn't know you were holding onto all of that."

"Me either." Rachel blew out.

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm…I'm going to go enjoy my bachelorette party. I'm going to spend the night smiling because the woman I love loves me back. And…I'm going to try."

"That sounds good, Rach."

"But I have to see her first." Jesse rolled his eyes and took a hold of Rachel's shoulders and steered her towards the door.

"Fine. But then we have a bachelorette party to get to."

X

They were all crowded in Santana and Brittany's living room pregaming before they headed to the strip club. Well, everyone but Santana. And Quinn, but don't tell anyone because she doesn't want them to know she isn't drinking.

When Rachel knocked on the door, she almost turned around and ran for the hills, but Brittany answered the door before she could make her great escape.

"No way. We were _just _talking about you and you're here. Did you hear us?"

"Um…no. Hi, Brittany."

"Hi!" Brittany threw her arms around Rachel and they hugged hard as Brittany grunted and shook Rachel's body around. "I knocked up Santana." The blonde beamed and snapped her wrist with pride as she pulled away.

Rachel laughed as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced at her shoes. "I've heard. Congratulations. You're going to make a wonderful mother."

"I know right." Rachel peaked around the doorway to try and find her reason for coming, but all she could see were Mercedes and Tina dancing.

"I can only stay a moment and was hoping that I could speak to Quinn briefly?"

"Sure, hold on. Baby mama!"

"What!" Santana yelled back. The girls in the next room were laughing at whatever and Rachel smiled at the sound.

"Tell Quinn to get over here!" Brittany turned back to Rachel and smiled brightly. "I could have called for Quinn but I just really like calling S that. It's as fun as it sounds." Brittany stated to Rachel.

"I'm going to call Quinn wifey." Rachel smiled softly.

"She looks like a wifey."

"Doesn't she, though? That's exactly what I thought." Quinn appeared a moment after that, the ghost of a smile lingering before it fully developed at the sight of Rachel.

"Rach? Hey!" Quinn's arms were around her and her face was buried in Rachel's neck as she held her close. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?" Quinn pulled back but took Rachel's hands in her own as she inspected her. "You've been crying." She stated with concern.

Rachel shook her off and smiled. "I'm fine. Everything is fine."

"Then why aren't you at your party? Kurt's using my farfalle with roasted rapini recipe."

Rachel's eyes raced over Quinn's face. She felt the constriction in her chest and fought to keep breathing. Quinn. _Her _Quinn. _And I'm _her_ Rachel_. "Hi." Rachel mumbled as she swung their joined hands back and forth. She suddenly felt very shy. Like she was naked in front of a crowd. But in a good way. Naked in front of the one you love for the first time. That's a better analogy.

"Hey." Quinn smiled back even though her eyes showed her confusion. It felt like Rachel really was seeing Quinn for the first time. She wanted to use words. Say something meaningful or even just silly. But the desire to just stare at Quinn was too great and she decided she didn't really need to say anything. It just felt good to be looking at Quinn like that again. With no guard. No time limit. Just open.

Quinn's head tilted a little as she stared back. She wasn't sure what Rachel was doing there or why she wasn't saying anything, but she was enjoying her staring. "You guys are hot."

Both girls jumped slightly at the sound of Brittany's voice, completely forgetting that she was still standing right there. "Thank you, Brittany." Rachel chuckled shyly.

"I totally knew you were doing it in high school." Quinn and Rachel exchanged smiles as they shook their heads.

"You caught us." Quinn shrugged with a laugh.

"I'm going to go fluff Santana's pillows." And then she was gone.

Quinn laughed awkwardly, unsure what shifted between her and Rachel and why they were both suddenly so nervous. "She actually_ means_ pillows. She's been doing it, like, every ten minutes all night because Santana's back is bothering her."

"That's sweet." Rachel smiled and ducked her head again. She knew she was blushing and was desperate to hide it. She gently pulled her hands away from Quinn's when she realized her palms were growing sweaty and hugged herself as she leaned against the hallway wall.

"So everything's okay?"

"Yeah, I just…it's silly" Rachel admitted as she shook her head. "I just wanted to see you before I went over Kurt's." Quinn nodded.

She bit her lip to contain her smile of the news and leaned against the doorframe as she folded her arms. "That's not silly." Their gaze held until they both felt the intensity and Rachel cleared her throat as she looked away.

"I should go. Jesse's waiting in the car for me."

"Okay."

But Rachel didn't move. She physically couldn't. Quinn was wearing a light green dress with a white cardigan and her hair was flowing down freely around her shoulders. Rachel was pretty sure that she was sex on flats. "You look really pretty, Quinn." Rachel whispered as she glanced up at her fiancée from underneath her eyelashes.

Quinn's eyebrow rose comically in understanding. All at once, the force of Rachel's bashful words hit her and her smile was triumphant. "Yeah?"

"Very." Rachel mumbled around her smile as she ducked her head again.

Quinn could see Rachel's pleased smile and bit her lip at what it meant. "Did you want to stay here instead of going to Kurt's? You should just stay here. We don't even need to go out we can just-"

Rachel smiled up at her and bit her lip as well. "I would love to, but I promised Noah that I'd be his beer pong partner and I'm sure that's a big deal or something." She chuckled.

Quinn nodded as she leaned against the doorframe, not wanting the conversation to end. "Yo, Fabray! Get your ass in here!" Santana screamed from inside.

Both girls exchanged smiles and an eye roll. "Sorry." Quinn apologized unnecessarily. Rachel shrugged her off and inched closer.

"It's fine. I'm sure Jesse is moments away from doing something overly dramatic." They chuckled at the truth of it and their eyes found each other again.

"I won't see you tonight."

"No." Rachel answered quietly.

"But I'll see you tomorrow."

Rachel laughed softly and nodded. "I think you'll find me there." They were quiet again as their eyes locked.

"Fat ass! We're waaaaaaitiiiiiing!" Santana screamed.

Rachel's head whipped around the doorframe so fast Quinn had to jump out of her way.

"Watch your mouth, tubbers, that's my wifey!" The room-full of girls who understood the reference howled with laughter as Santana pouted at Brittany.

"Burn." Was all Brittany said in reply before she wrapped her arms around Santana and whispered words to cheer the teary-eyed girl up. It didn't take long.

Quinn chuckled and covered her face with her palm before dropping it to smile at Rachel. "My hero. You have no idea how long I've been dying to say something like that."

Rachel just smiled. Until her phone started to ring. "That would be Jesse."

Quinn straightened as her expression grew serious. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

They were hesitant for a moment, both unsure what to do, before they inched forward. Quinn couldn't remove her gaze from Rachel's lips and Rachel's eyes were tightly shut as she stood on tiptoes and craned her neck towards Quinn. A moment passed in a pregnant pause and the sound of their shallow breathing was all either one could hear. And then they pressed their lips together softly, drowning out the sound of the laughter within the apartment. Quinn's hands struggled to remain at her sides and she fisted them in an effort to keep from grabbing Rachel and holding on for dear life.

Rachel was equally in pain. It was such a simple kiss they had perfected a hundred times before. But they knew that this one was very, very different. Their lips broke apart as Rachel fumbled with the vibrating cell in her hands. Quinn's fingers immediately dove into her hair to keep from screaming her frustrations and Rachel continued to fumble with the phone until she finally hit ignore.

"So I should go."

Quinn only nodded as she licked her lips and tried to settle her panting. Her face was still pinched with disappointment but she smiled it away. "Have fun tonight and be safe." Rachel stared up at Quinn one last time before finally smiled back.

"You too." Rachel's phone vibrated again and a look of complete irritation swept over her as she slapped the phone to her hear. "I'll. Be. _Right_. There!" Quinn laughed and hung the phone up for Rachel before bringing her into a hug.

"Call me when you get home and don't have too much fun with the boys."

"Don't have too much fun at the strip club."

"I'm _sure _I can manage that."

Rachel quickly brushed her lips against Quinn's check before she spun around and practically sprinted down the steps and out the door to the parking lot and into Jesse's car.

"You are a _life _ruiner, Jesse St. James, a _life _ruiner!"

Jesse blanched before he pouted deeply. "What did _I _do?"

"Oh, just take me to Kurt's!"

X

As the girls finished off their drinks and applied their final layers of makeup before heading to the strip club, the boys were just finishing off dinner even though Rachel was the only one eating at the elaborately decorated table.

The boys all sat quietly, their faces hovering over their plates with confused and disgusted expressions exchanged between them as they eyed the unknown dish. "I'm not sure I made it right." Kurt mumbled as he poked at it with his fork.

"No, Kurt, it was perfect. Almost as good as Quinn's." Kurt used his napkin to wipe away his sour expression before he threw it on top of his plate and beamed at his guest.

"Well. I should say it's time for a few cocktails before we get this party started!" He was quickly out of his chair and hurrying into the kitchen as Puck, Sam, and Artie smiled in relief.

Their smiles didn't last long.

Cocktails were actually cocktails, no beer and the liquor was already in their mixers. When it appeared that only Rachel, Kurt, and Jeremy were going to be doing karaoke, Puck broke out his game system and soon most of the guys were placated. Matt and Mike caught up while Puck, Artie, and Jeremy played. Kurt and Jesse were exchanging grooming tips while Sam listened intently.

Rachel stood back at the scene and smiled fondly. She was only slightly jealous of the girls' party, but mostly was just pleased to be surrounded by her boys. Periodically they would take turns to have one-on-one conversations with her. It was sweet actually. They each grabbled for something to talk to her about wedding-related, or asked her about her fame. Quinn would come up, but all the guys agreed to not mention the blonde too often because Rachel would gush and usually their eyes would glaze over. And not because they were bored.

As the night wore on and the guys started to enjoy their cocktails, Rachel drifted off in the background as she thought of Quinn.

The blonde was of the same mind. While she was having fun, she just really wished Rachel was beside her. But Rachel's friend Jen from Julliard laughed loudly and distracted her from thoughts of her diva.

Deep into their night of debauchery, Quinn was laughing along as Mercedes waved a dollar out for a stripper to take, practically heaved over from all her insane, drunken laughter, with Tina by her side giggling away. "Quinn Fabray?"

Quinn glanced up at the stripper in the hot pink wig and quirked her eyebrow in answer.

"Your lap dance awaits." The stripper said with a smirk as she motioned to the back of the strip club.

"Uh…no. I'm not getting a lap dance." Quinn turned away from the woman to watch Brittany clamber up on stage to join the stripper working the poll. Beside her, Santana whooped loudly as one hand rubbed her stomach. Quinn silently wondered if Baby Brittany was dancing as well in Santana's womb.

"I don't think you understand." Quinn's attention was pulled back to the stripper at her side who had squatted down to rest her arm along the length of Quinn's chair. "You _have _to get your lap dance." She whispered for Quinn's ears only.

Quinn's eyebrow went higher as she stared down the woman. _Quinn Fabray don't got to do shit, bitch._

Quinn's smile turned sickeningly sweet as she shook her head. "No. _You _don't understand. I'm not getting a lap dance." Quinn laughed loudly as two strippers stood, hands on their hips, brows furrowed in concentration, as they watched Brittany show them the proper poll dancing technique.

"That's my girl!" Santana yelled as she pointed at Brittany, telling anyone who would listen. "That's _my_ girl!"

"Ms. Fabray?" Quinn huffed loudly as she sucked on her teeth and jerked her head to look at the annoyingly persistent striper at her side. "You don't understand, the lap dance-"

"I _said_ I wasn't getting a lap dance and I meant it. I don't care if my friends pre-ordered one for me, I'm _not _getting it!" Quinn seethed.

Quinn watched as the stripper ducked her head, but she could just make out the smirk on the woman's face. She cleared her voice before she glanced back up at Quinn. "Ms. Fabray…your fiancée…she _is _the stripper."

Everything froze.

In that moment, Quinn felt all the blood drain from her face and pool directly down between her thighs. She couldn't breathe. She was going to choke on nothing and die with happy visions of Rachel wearing next to nothing on top of her.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you that." The stripper whispered with a grimace. "Ms. Berry was hoping you'd just go along with it. But she's in the back, in a private room, waiting for you."

Quinn's eyebrows had long ago disappeared into her hairline. She just blinked slowly back at the stripper as she tried to grasp what she was hearing. Finally, after just staring at the poor woman for a long minute, she opened and closed her mouth several times and then laughed. "Rachel's not back there." She shook off with a rueful chuckle and turned her gaze to the stage once again.

"Ms. Fabray. She _is_ and you _can't _tell her I told you. She wanted it to be a surprise or something. She even provided her own music and chair." Slowly, Quinn's wide-eyes drifted back to the stripper at her side. _She provided her own music and chair? Well _that _sounds like Rachel. _But Quinn shook that off to and smiled in amusement.

"Rachel would never do that." _For me. Not know. Not when things are just staring to improve. _

"I assure you, Ms. Fabray. She's back there. She came to us earlier today to buy out the room as a surprise. All the strippers were paid off so they wouldn't approach you for a dance…or even to talk. She was _very _clear about that." The stripper actually seemed a little bitter about that fact.

Quinn swallowed thickly as her head swung from side to side. "Rachel's not back there."

The stripper laughed lightly. "Trust me, she is."

"You could be mistaken." Quinn stuttered, completely flushed and thrown by this news. The idea that Rachel Berry was waiting so she could give Quinn a lap dance was the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard. She wouldn't believe. She couldn't believe. Because it sounded too good to be true.

"I think I know what Rachel Berry looks like, Q. How many Slushies did I toss in her face?"

Quinn blanched at the comment and eyed the smiling stripper carefully. Suddenly her eyes widened in recognition. "Amanda?" Quinn whispered as her hand covered her mouth in surprise.

"Hey, Q."

"Amanda Ryan?"

The stripper laughed again, gently took Quinn's wrist, and led her towards the back room. "Uh huh."

"Amanda Ryan, McKinley class of two-thousand-eight?" Quinn whispered as she just stared at the stripper, unaware of where she was being taken.

Amanda chuckled again as she nodded to the man who stood guard outside the backroom and they entered. "Amanda Ryan, McKinley class of two-thousand-eight, my predecessor?"

"Quinn, I think we've established who I am. Now get your lap dance from your fiancée and don't tell her I told you it was her." They were face to face in the completely dark room. In the center sat a fold-up chair and an iPod deck was carefully pushed to the side against the plush, black velvet back wall, out of the way.

Quinn looked around, searching for Rachel, but she could barely make out Amanda never mind what lay in the shadows. "Wh-why? Why is she doing this?" Quinn asked in a panicky voice as her heart rate tripled.

Amanda shrugged and whispered back, "She said you were nervous to get a dance. S was going to make you get one and you were worried the stripper would take 'liberties,' her word not mine. So she planned this out. If you want my opinion, I think Berry was more concerned the girl would take liberties because she's jealous. And she should be. I know _I'd _take liberties." The girl winked before she ducked behind a black velvet curtain and disappeared.

Quinn stood just behind the fold-up chair, confused, nervous, and more than a little turned on.

_Is Rachel really about to give us a lap dance? _

_Oh my, God, what if Rachel is really about to give us a lap dance?_

_I don't think I'll be able to handle this! _

_Dear God in heaven, I'm going to be a wreck! _

We're _going to be a wreck! _

_I want Rachel to wreck the _shit _out of me!_

_Quinn Fabray!_

…_What?_

"Sit down." Quinn's head jerked towards the sultry voice and felt her body shiver. It _could _be Rachel, but whoever it was had disguised their voice with an accent. Quinn hesitated as she panted where she stood. Her heart was thrashing against her ribs and her neck and clit were pulsating in anticipation.

Rachel watched Quinn from behind the slits of the black, sequenced mask she was wearing and waited until her fiancée slowly took her seat, carefully folding her dress underneath her, befor glanced around nervously.

She could tell Quinn was nervous even from across the room. She was nervous, too. _Extremely _nervous.

When Quinn had texted Rachel right before her interview that she was going to have to get a lap dance, Rachel's jealousy meter sparked red-hot. In her drunken state, she formulated the plan and had the poor lighting guy drive her to the most popular strip club in Lima's city limits.

With the alcohol fueling her, she requested to speak to the club's manager and told him exactly what she wanted. She had no problem paying the money to rent out the private back room and felt it was only fair to tip the dancers who would _not_, in no uncertain terms, be approaching her fiancée. It was win-win for everyone.

It didn't take her long to put together a set list either. She used inspiration from the glee club's hip-hop assignment and combined four different songs Rachel believed would widely express the proper lap dance mood in a mega mashup: Sexy, playful, hot, and sensual. The run time on the playlist was just shy of ten minutes and Rachel believed that she could get in and out with no one knowing and everyone appeased—Santana would live vicariously through Quinn, Quinn wouldn't have to worry about a stripper, and Rachel wouldn't be forced to beat any bitches up. It was perfect.

But now that Quinn was in the chair and Rachel was half naked underneath her sheer black robe, she was wondering what the hell she had been thinking. It was all fine and well when she just thought her and Quinn were exchanging some flirty text messages. Now to _know_ that Quinn's feelings ran as deep as Rachel's, to _know _that this lap dance could be the start of something entirely overwhelming, Rachel wasn't so sure she could sit astride Quinn and not ride her for all she was worth.

_Get a grip, Rachel, we can do this. _

_I'm half naked. _

_This isn't a big deal. _

_I'm wearing reveling boy shorts and a decidedly exposed brazier! _

_Quinn doesn't know it's you. Keep the mask on, use the accent, and just dance a little. _

_I'm classically trained! What the hell do I know about lap dances?_

_Breathing would be a good idea. Try doing that a few times and you won't feel so lightheaded. _

_What if she touches me? Oh, God, what if I get to touch her?_

_You've touched Quinn before in intimate ways, Rachel. This isn't new. _

_But that was _forever _ago! _

_You are a random third party as far as Quinn is concerned, you can do this without it getting too intimate. _

…

_Okay, Rach, you have to stop picturing things getting too intimate! Just breathe! _

…

_Stop breathing so hard! _

_She looks so gorgeous! I want it, I want it! _

_Mmmkay, Rachel, you need to get your shit together! Mostly because we've been standing here for a very long time and Quinn looks like she's ready to bolt. So just do as I say. Okay? _

_Okay. _

_Okay, good. First, turn on the iPod and start the song. Forget that Quinn is sitting there and just get into the beat. That's all, just sway your hips a little. Your online search said that strippers will sometimes dance for their patrons. So just dance a little. _

_Here I go. _

Originally Rachel planned on sashaying across the room as sexy as she could. She was use to wearing very high heels and thought it wouldn't be a problem. She's lucky she didn't kill herself on that walk to her iPod.

Her fingers shook as she pressed play and she was, again, regretting the decision to do this. Suddenly all her songs seemed overtly sexual in nature to the point Rachel was _sure _she'd crack under the enormous, sexual pressure.

The completely uncomforting sounds of Keri Hilson's _Turnin Me On _erupted from the small iPod speakers, and it was subtly mixed with Rihanna's _What's My Name. _Rachel originally thought the songs balanced each other out without being too explicit. But as she felt Quinn's eyes on her back, most likely seeing through the sheer robe to the dangerously cut boy shorts, she felt as though a blaring sign was above her head blinking HORNY!

Quinn was desperately trying to swallow, but the task was proving to be far too difficult. Rachel's ass looked ridiculously tantalizing framed in the black boy shorts and Quinn was very close to yanking the diva over so she would wrap her long legs around Quinn.

And then Rachel started to dance.

Now Quinn was sure she'd drown in her saliva. Because the slowly rock of Rachel's hips were more hypnotizing than a blazing fire and just as hot. Rachel was barely moving, she shifting her hips from side to side as she got a feel for the music. Her hair bounced with her as her ass shook and Quinn's dark hazel eyes watched each movement as she bit her lip in hunger.

A quiver of arousal was like a wave traveling down her body as she stared. This was _actually _about to happen. She felt like she had two hearts, both thumping at full force, trying to bang through Quinn's chest in an effort to attack Rachel.

_Here we go…_

Rachel slowly turned, confident that her mask guarded her face—all but her lips. But when she caught sight of Quinn's expression, the utter arousal clearly visible all over the blonde's face, Rachel forgot there were things in the world she needed to worry about. She no longer cared that she was about to grind against Quinn. She couldn't wait.

Slowly Rachel pushed her hips out as the rest of her body started to move with the main beat of _Turnin Me On. _Quinn's eyes were fixated Rachel's hips and legs and it became incredibly easy for Rachel to know exactly what to do under her fiancée's gaze.

In a slow prowl, Rachel's exposed body danced until she was just in front of Quinn. This was the first step. She promised herself she wouldn't take it, but this was the first step to not just a usual lap dance. She was happily about to take that first step whether it was a good idea or not.

Soft fingers traced Quinn's legs until her sundress hem met her knees and then thighs. Quinn gasped heavily at the feel of Rachel's fingers skimming her skin and then applying pressure on the inside of her knees. She easily complied until her legs were spreading to allow entry for Rachel's body.

Quinn's eyes jumped to Rachel's behind the mask, hoping to see some sort of warning for what was to come. But Rachel's eyes were trained on Quinn's exposed thighs as she licked her lips and that was all Quinn needed to know.

It was a bit difficult to manage the task, her body already wound so tightly and her chest heaving so steadily, but her arms lifted and her hands touched the back of Rachel's thighs. With the slightest of pressure, she pushed Rachel forward until she was between Quinn's legs. She wanted to keep her hands there, wanted to dance them up the back of Rachel's robe, but she was pretty sure you weren't allowed to touch strippers. Rachel wasn't exactly a stripper, but Rachel didn't know that Quinn knew it was Rachel. She didn't think her fiancée would be happy with the knowledge that given the opportunity, Quinn would be touching another woman. So with a great amount of disappointment, Quinn retracted her hands and fisted them onto her dress.

Now where she wanted to be, Rachel began to dance again. Her thighs would occasionally brush the seat of Quinn's chair and she knew she had to rectify that. Her shaking hands lifted and softly landed on the bare skin of Quinn's arms, starting at the wrist. With a barely-there touch, Rachel moved her fingertips up Quinn's arms while she watched. Quinn's eyes fluttered and closed as her chest heaved each inch Rachel met. Soon Rachel's was cupping Quinn shoulders to steady herself as she danced a little more before she dipped down between Quinn's thighs.

Quinn's pants and pounding blood was all she could hear as she saw Rachel's mouth level with her core. Rachel's fingers kneaded into the tight muscles of Quinn's shoulders as she held herself in place before dancing and twisting to full height. With a rush of expelled air, Quinn tried to jumpstart her breathing once again.

Rachel pressed closer to Quinn's body, leaning down slightly, and let her hands travel to the nap of Quinn's neck before skating down her back. Quinn got the hint and slid forward in her seat until she was just on the edge. She peered up at Rachel in desperation, but Rachel didn't seem to notice as she planned out her next move.

Turning, Rachel bent over to drop to the floor, bringing her ass up. Quinn's eyes devoured the show and her hands twitch to touch. Rachel felt Quinn shift behind her and wondered if she imagined Quinn pressing into her ass. Just the slightest contact. The idea that Quinn's body was against her, however, made Rachel shut her eyes. Her plans flew out the window as she stood up straight before leaning fully against Quinn's length. She felt Quinn's chest heave behind her as she danced between her fiancée's spread thighs.

She shimmied her hips and felt Quinn's body react, swaying along with her as she pressed her ass down more firmly. Rachel snaked her arm behind her until it's hooked around Quinn's neck and moved as though Quinn was her music.

The desire to hold Rachel's hips or rake her nails down Rachel's stomach was proving tricky. Rachel's ass kept massaging Quinn's clit with languid strokes that were making Quinn lose her mind. She was panting heavily in Rachel's ear and longed to brush the long brown hair away to kiss her neck.

Almost sensing how close Quinn was to losing it all, Rachel stood and turned. Her hands slid behind Quinn's neck, holding on tightly, before she carefully raised her leg and draped it over Quinn's thigh before repeating the process with her other leg.

They were now face to face. Rachel straddling Quinn with her ass gently moving to the beat of the music with her arms holding onto Quinn. Each time she moved, she'd feel Quinn's soft gasp against her face and her fiancée's body tense. "Is this okay?" Rachel asked, leaning forward slightly to be heard over the music with her lips just beside Quinn's ear.

Quinn nodded quickly a few times, loving the feel of Rachel's body on top of her as it rotated right where Quinn needed her to be. She could feel how wet she was. Feel how drenched her panties were and wondered if Rachel was as well. Wondered if Rachel knew what she was doing to her. If she wanted to know.

Rachel held on tightly as she pressed her body even closer. Her first two songs were almost done, mixing into her third song as it was subtly being introduced. The harder bass was making her react accordingly. She started grinding harder and faster as she buried her small body against Quinn's. Their breasts were pressed together with their stomachs sliding, as Rachel raised her body up and down with her ass still grinding in tight circles against Quinn's lap.

Quinn's shaky breaths were erratic. She felt Rachel's racing heart against her own as her fiancée's tight body moved against her. Felt how Rachel's lips were almost touching the sweating skin of her neck just below her ear. She wanted to moan. She wanted to beg Rachel or take a hold of Rachel's hips and grind them more solidly down on her own. Rock them until Quinn was soaking her panties so completely that Rachel could feel what she was doing to her.

The dance was half over, Rachel knew. The third song, Jeremih's _Down On Me _was now the only one playing. The dance was changing as well. It was faster and less of a dance really. With the smell of Quinn's skin surrounding her and the tight press of her body, Rachel was starting to lose control.

She wanted Quinn's hands on her instead of at her sides clinging to her sundress. She wanted Quinn's body to move along with her in a fast pace that would have them both coming. She wanted to be kissing Quinn's panting mouth. Licking her mouth wet and tugging at her lips with teeth. Rachel's body was shaking and felt too hot. She wanted her robe off, her bra and panties too, and wanted Quinn's dress to follow.

"Take my robe off."

"Oh, God." Quinn moaned against Rachel's ear. Rachel's voice was so husky and the statement so forceful, that Quinn felt her clit throb so intensely that she knew an orgasm couldn't be far off.

With shaking hands, Quinn skimmed Rachel's arms with delicate fingertips until she reached the neckline of the sheer robe. Rachel continued to grind on her body, not even bothering to pull away to make Quinn's job easier. So Quinn merely tugged roughly until the robe was around Rachel's waist and left her hands there to cup Rachel's hips

Only then did Rachel pull away. She still pushed her hips against Quinn's but her chest was exposed to Quinn and Quinn didn't hesitate to drop her gaze. The black bra was almost as she sheer as the robe. She could just make out Rachel's dark, hard nipples and she shut her eyes tightly before she feasted on them again.

Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and pushed her head down so that Quinn's lips were between Rachel's cleavage. She closed her eyes, imaging the look on Quinn's face as she stared at her. She felt Quinn's hot breath against her chest and shivered.

The fourth song, a faster beat, RaeKwon's _Rock 'n Roll_, mixed in with _Down On Me_ and Rachel fisted Quinn's hair at the combined sensual beat. She wanted Quinn to take her so badly. Each time she'd grind into Quinn she felt the slickness in her panties and the hardness of her clit lick the fabric. She moved faster.

Quinn's shuddering breath dusted Rachel's hot skin making her shiver. She wanted Quinn's hands her. Needed them. "You can touch me." Rachel barely got out. The words caught in her throat and she shifted until she was straddling one of Quinn's exposed thighs.

The words destroyed her. She panted hotly against Rachel's chest as her lips skimmed the skin and begged herself not to taste it. "I can't." Quinn managed to say. But Rachel didn't hear her. Quinn lifted her head and peered up at her fiancée in torture. "I can't touch you."

Rachel swallowed thickly. "Why not?" Rachel had momentarily forgotten her accent. Because at that moment, she had pressed forward slightly, her pussy resting on Quinn's thigh.

"_Fuck_." Quinn hissed out. She could feel how wet Rachel was and without considering anything but her desires, pushed against Rachel's hips until her knee was nudged against Quinn's wet core.

"_Shit, _touch me. God, touch me, please." Rachel whimpered as she dropped her head to Quinn's shoulder. She rotated her hips once, then twice, realizing with each movement where this was leading.

Quinn's husky voice fought to work. "Because…you're not my fiancée." Quinn was going to get off. She was pretty sure Rachel was going to get off too. She had waited a _long _time to make her dream happen, and Rachel was coming no matter what! Quinn just needed for Rachel to hear that. It took a lot for her to say it. Mostly because the only thing she wanted to be saying—or screaming—was Rachel's name.

"So, even though I'm sitting on top of you, soaking wet, ready for you, you're more concerned about your fiancée?"

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it! _

"Yeah. I…can't…do that…to her." Rachel slowly brushed her pussy up against the flexing muscle of Quinn's thigh as her knee pushed against Quinn.

It seemed as though Quinn had spoke the magic words. "Then let me just ride you."

Quinn's head fell back as she shut her eyes, soaking up the feel of Rachel's wet pussy rubbing against her as Rachel's knee massaged her clit. Rachel's hands squeezed Quinn's shoulders roughly with each passing stroke, kneading the muscles in sync with her pleasure.

Rachel couldn't stop even if Quinn threw her off. Watching Quinn toss her head back in desire had her dripping. Her gaze bounced back and forth between Quinn's flushed face and the red panties her knee rubbed against. She brought her body down faster and harder, not at all concerned that her song was over or that the slow dance music in the main room had seeped through. She just watched Quinn as she rode her.

Quinn's hands slipped down to grip Rachel's ass, no longer concerned with the logistics, and pushed Rachel down harder on her thigh. She moved her own hips in time with Rachel's knee and felt her clit harden and spasm with each lick.

Rachel's lips moved to Quinn's ear as she gasped and panted. Her knee was soaking wet with Quinn and each time she thought about it she felt her clit jump. "Oh, _God_."

"Are you coming?"

"Soon. Real soon. God."

"Keep going."

"Fuck."

"You feel so good."

"Yes."

"I want this so badly."

"Touch me."

"Oh my, God."

Quinn's hands slipped into the hem of Rachel's panties and she squeezed her ass forcefully as she pushed Rachel into her.

"So close."

"Me too."

"I'm going to come on you."

"Jesus."

"Keep going."

"Oh, _fuck_."

Rachel's teeth sunk into the skin of Quinn's neck and she tugged as she felt her clit pulse and release until she was coming hard on Quinn's thigh. Quinn felt the moisture just as she pushed her pussy hard against Rachel's knee and came with a breathy moan.

Rachel collapsed against Quinn as she gasped for air, her body completely exhausted. She felt Quinn's hands slid up her back until she was holding her closely against her, her own gasps echoing in Rachel's ears.

She placed a sloppy kiss on Quinn's neck and felt her fiancée return the favor on her shoulder, both too out of breath to do much more. So they just held each other until their chests no longer heaved and they could swallow without gasping for air.

Slowly, Rachel untangled herself from Quinn and got to her feet on wobbly legs. But Quinn didn't move. She just sat there, legs still spread, dress still up around her waist, as she watched Rachel.

Neither knew what to do. They were by no means sated but the loud pulsing beat from the strip club reminded them of where they were and who Rachel was supposed to be.

Rachel quickly moved forward and placed a quick kiss on Quinn's lips before she all but ran for the exit. If she stayed a moment longer, she would have stripped completely and begged Quinn for everything.

It took Quinn a further twenty minutes to get back to her friends. Santana was passed out on Brittany's shoulder, snoring lightly, as Mercedes, Lydia, Lauren, and Tina spoke conversationally with a few strippers.

They all looked over at the ashen-faced Quinn when she collapsed next Santana, who stirred. "Are we ready to go?" Santana asked with a loud yawn.

Quinn nodded silently and everyone stood. She just had her first orgasm in a very long time. She smiled at the thought as everyone piled into Santana's car. Soon her smile turned to laughter. She had made Rachel Berry come. And it was the most delicious thing that couldn't wait to repeat.

Rachel was squeezed on her windowsill as she sat with her legs spread out and her head tilted against the frame. It was so quiet outside and so absolutely loud in her head. She hadn't even tried to go to sleep; what was the point without Quinn? She knew she should be nervous about the wedding, or at least hesitant. She knew she should be sad and feel rejected because Shelby wouldn't be there. She knew she should be anxious because a camera crew would be recording her every move while celebrities and other people she didn't know nor care about would be flitting about. But all she could think about was Quinn. How much she loved her. How much she needed her. How much she wanted her.

And Quinn loved her back.

Her phone was ringing before she even realized she had picked it up or dialed. Quinn answered before the second ring. _"Hey there, superstar."_

Rachel grinned shyly at the way Quinn had rolled each syllable with sensuality. It brought back images of the lap dance and Rachel was back to wanting Quinn again. "What are you up to?"

"_Hmmm, just…stuff."_ Quinn answered playfully.

"Stuff, huh? Anything you care to share?"

"_Nope. Can't tell."_ Rachel giggled and bit her lip; she _really _liked how she and Quinn could just _be _with one another. How things had progressed.

She was silent on the line as she considered. "_You still there?"_ The playfulness was gone from Quinn's voice, slightly concerned now that Rachel had gone so quiet.

"Come over." Rachel whispered, a hint of begging just under the surface.

Quinn gasped loudly, back to playful. "Ms_. Berry, I'll do no such thing! Think of the scandal!" _

Rachel smiled and tilted the phone away from her mouth so Quinn couldn't hear her giggling. "Shut up and come over here."

"_Can't sleep without me? I tossed and turned for twenty minutes without you_." Quinn admitted easily.

"Then come over!" Rachel pouted as she slipped off her windowsill and began tossing her discarded clothes into a neat pile in the corner of her room—just in case Quinn could be persuaded.

Quinn heard the movement and changed the subject. "_What's that rustling_?"

"That's the sound of me cleaning my room."

"_Why_?" Quinn laughed.

Rachel's face contorted into confusion as she inspected a shirt of Quinn's she had in her hands. "Because if you come over you're going to want to clean before going to bed." Rachel explained as she removed her tank top and stuffed Quinn's t-shirt over her head, muffling her voice slightly.

"_So_?"

"So? I'm not letting you clean. So just get over here!"

"_I think I _actually_ just heard you stomp your foot."_

"I did no such thing."

"_Uh huh. Totally did_."

"You most certainly did not, Quinn Fabray. And even if I did," She so had. "There's no way you could have heard."

"_Well maybe since I'm outside your bedroom door I could_."

Quinn smiled into the silence—on the phone and on the other side of Rachel's door—before the hurried sounds of Rachel crossing her bedroom hit.

"Are you really on the other side?" Rachel asked in a whisper, her voice so hopeful. In response, Quinn knocked twice and rested her forehead against the door as she waited. "Well how do I know that's you? It could be daddy or dad."

Quinn laughed as she rolled her eyes at Rachel's ridiculousness. "_Can I come in now_?"

Rachel's response was a twist of the doorknob. At the sound, Quinn stepped back and smiled as Rachel appeared. "See. Not lying." Quinn breathed out with a smile, cell still to her hear.

Rachel's stoic expression held and she spoke directly into the mouth piece of her phone. "I have to go, some annoying girl just showed up at my door."

"Ugh, just get rid of her." Quinn whispered into the phone as she smiled wider at Rachel.

"I would love to, but she's pretty, so I should at least see what she wants."

Quinn's eyebrow rose slowly. "Pretty, huh? Is she prettier than me?"

"Hmmmm….I'll let you know." Rachel blindly hung up the phone and leaned against the doorframe as she looked up at Quinn. "Can I help you with something?"

Quinn mimicked Rachel's stance and smiled in amusement, her phone finally away. "So we're just going to act like you didn't beg me to come over?"

"That was someone else. I must have gotten your numbers mixed up by mistake."

Quinn shrugged as pushed passed Rachel and glanced around the room. "Well I'm here and she isn't so I guess I win." She turned back to her fiancée and crossed her arms over her chest. "You hardly cleaned."

Rachel pouted and folded her arms. "I did too."

_I love you for your pout and your folded arms and they way you think cleaning is dumping a pile of dirty clothes into a corner. _"I supposed you Rachel-cleaned." Quinn answered before slipping under the covers of the bed. "Now let's sleep. If I must be photographed tomorrow I would like to do so with minimum bags underneath my eyes."

Rachel followed closely and didn't hesitate to snuggle up to Quinn. "Why is it that we never realized in high school how similar we are?" Rachel asked with a yawn.

The feel of Rachel's body up against hers made Quinn flashback to the strip club in a big way. She struggled to banish the thoughts of Rachel riding her leg so she could actually answer her. "I just don't think we knew each other very well."

Rachel rested her head on Quinn's shoulder softly as she considered that. "Funny…if you think about it, we should have?"

"Why's that?" Quinn asked through a yawn of her own. It had been another long day.

"Because…all the major things that happened to us in high school involved each other." That thought kept Rachel up long after Quinn fell asleep. She'd just stare at Quinn as the passed flashed by and the realization of how true her words had been kept her company.

"Do you know how important you are to me?" Rachel whispered at half passed eleven that night. Quinn's lips smiled but she didn't wake. "Since the day I met you, Quinn Fabray, you have changed me."

A little past midnight, Rachel crept out of bed and grabbed her phone. She slid into her bathroom and dialed, hoping Quinn wouldn't wake in her absence.

Quinn was becoming more and more aware of the fingers running though her hair and her eyelashes fluttered until she was staring at Rachel. "Hey." She drew out with a smile. Rachel smiled back as she hovered over her, fingers still combing through her hair. "What time is it?"

"Still late." Rachel whispered back. "Not even one in the morning." Quinn groaned softly and turned over until she was facing Rachel.

"Have you slept at all?"

Rachel shook her head, still smiling down at Quinn. "No."

"Why not?"

"Thinking."

Quinn smiled and sat up on her elbow. "About?"

Rachel waited before answering. She wasn't really sure what she wanted to say. How do you tell the woman you love that, although you love her, you're not ready to be met with the full force of it yet. That you feel like a million tiny steps have been skipped and you want to start over but know you can't. That you can't erase six years of history and pretend you have a clean slate. That you want a clean slate, but at the same time, you're glad that you know each other so well. That the last two years have been better than any love story you've seen or could think up, even if _your _story appears to be the complete _opposite _of a romantic comedy.

"I've been thinking…" Quinn moved closer to Rachel as she waited. Her eyes crinkled as she stared at her fiancée, hoping that Rachel wasn't about to change her mind about anything. Wasn't about to take four giant leaps back in their progress. She was also hoping that Rachel would start opening up. "I've been thinking we should get married." Rachel whispered as her eyes dropped to Quinn's.

Quinn's heart began to race as she read the seriousness in Rachel's expression. "I think we're already doing that, Rach." Quinn whispered back, her voice hitching slightly.

Rachel shook her head softly. "I mean right now." Quinn's hazel eyes bore into Rachel's as she tried to figure out exactly what she meant. Her heart continued to whip wildly away against her chest as her breathing turned shallow.

"What do you mean right now?"

Their words were so quiet they were like snowflakes falling. "I _mean_…let's get married right now, just the two of us."

Quinn sat up further. "How?" The question came quickly in Quinn's haste to know everything.

"Rabi Greenberg. I've already spoken to him and he's waiting for us."

"Where?"

"He and his family live three blocks from here."

"Why?"

The finally question landed with an impact that had both girls' hearts banging violently.

Rachel stared at Quinn as she let her eyes fill in the blanks. "Because we deserve more than what we'll have tomorrow. Because the only person that I truly want there tomorrow…is you. Because…" Rachel shrugged as she smiled without humor, leaving Quinn to replace the dot, dot, dots with the words she constantly had on the tip of her tongue. "Do-do you not want to?"

Quinn was shaking her head quickly—to try and clear it and to make Rachel understand—as she took a deep breath. "I want to. I _really _want to." Quinn looked away before meeting Rachel's gaze. "Do you trust me?"

Rachel's eyebrows furrowed as she stared down at Quinn. "Of course I do."

"Then why didn't you talk to me about Shelby, Rach?"

Silence hung in the air until Rachel shook it away with her head. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't say a _thing _about it! You didn't open up to me!"

"You didn't talk to me about your parents either."

"But I don't care about my parents."

"Well I don't care that Shelby isn't coming." Quinn gave Rachel a look that made her sigh. "Yes, I care that she's rejecting me once again. Yes, I care that your parents are going considering everything that they've done to you-"

"They're only going because-"

"I _know _that." Rachel said patiently. "But it still hurts that she isn't."

"So why didn't you _talk _to me. Me, of all people, you can talk to."

Rachel smiled softly as she traced Quinn's jaw with her finger. "I know that. I just didn't want to make a big deal about Shelby when your parents _are _going to be there. I didn't want to be selfish and make it all about me. I wanted to just be there for you."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

Rachel laughed softly before she bit her lip. "If it will make you feel better we can talk about Shelby and everything else I want later."

Quinn's eyes softened as she smiled at Rachel. "Okay."

This time Rachel's smile revealed everything and she realized belatedly that she was crying as she sobbed out a chuckle. "Okay?"

"Okay." Quinn agreed with a beaming smile of her own, her eyes just as watery as Rachel's.

Suddenly their wedding wasn't a business deal. It wasn't a way to help their friends or a vehicle for their careers. As Quinn and Rachel stared at each other, smiling as tear tracks were quickly brushed away, they both realized it was so much more than that.

They both laughed as they hopped out of the bed, two excited kids on Christmas. Quinn had worn her pajamas over and Rachel was dressed in Quinn's old Cherrios' t-shirt and shorts. Both girls raced around the bedroom to find something more appropriate to wear and could suddenly find nothing. "Wait, you should wear the yellow sundress!"

"Is it clean?"

"I washed it the other day, remember?"

"You should wear your pink button-down wiiiiith…." Quinn kicked through the pile of clothes on Rachel's floor and grabbed for the skirt she was searching for. "This."

Rachel laughed and collapsed into Quinn. "It's wrinkled!"

"I love it on you." From Quinn's chest, Rachel glanced up to meet hazel eyes and smiled.

"Okay."

They unabashedly changed in front of one another, giggling and smiling at each other the whole time. They crept out of Rachel's room, down the hallway passed her sleeping fathers', and sneaked around every creaky floorboard on the steps on their way out to the car. The giggled the whole way, almost as though they were sneaking out to a party and not their own wedding ceremony.

"We can never tell my fathers or they'd kill us." Rachel laughed as she buckled her seatbelt.

"_Everyone _would kill us!"

Their smiles met before their expressions softened until they were just staring. "Still want to do this?" Quinn whispered before biting her lip.

"Absolutely." Rachel answered back in a breathy sigh, turning forward to stare out the windshield as if it could propel them forward. Quinn gazed at Rachel's profile for a long moment before she threw the car into drive and flew down the block. It was all she had needed to hear.

Rabi Greenberg, his wife, and daughter were awake and bustling around when the girls arrived. They held hands up the driveway and into the house as Mrs. Greenberg excitedly chatted about and rearranged fresh flowers and candles. The family had no qualms about being woken up and were more than happy to oversee the ceremony for Rachel and—by extension—Quinn.

The night was blissfully dry as the five of them walked out into the backyard that was only lit by one candle. Both girls stood under a chuppah and held hands as they gazed at one another, tears silently falling and smiles so genuine they could only sob harder.

"Blessed are You, our God, Spirit of the world, Creator of the fruit of the vine. Blessed are You, our God, Spirit of the world, whose creation is glorious. Blessed are You, our God, Spirit of the world, Creator of human beings." Quinn's hands were shaking so hard as Rabi Greenberg spoke softly, Rachel moved closer to her and held Quinn's hands tightly to her chest.

"Blessed are You, our God, Spirit of the world, Who shapes humanity in Her image and likeness and enables us to renew creation by nurturing generations to come. Blessed are You, having created us in Your image. May women rejoice when their daughters gather in joy. Blessed are You, who gladdens Zion with her children. May these loving companions rejoice as did God's first creations in the Garden of Eden. Blessed are You Who enables lovers to rejoice with one another. Blessed are You, our God, Spirit of the world, Creator of joy and gladness, soulmate and beloved, merriment, song, dance, and delight, love and harmony, peace and companionship.

"Our God, may all soon hear in the cities of Judah and in the courtyards of Jerusalem the voices of joy and rejoicing, the voices of the lover and her beloved, the sound of lovers' jubilation from their chuppah, the celebratory songs of peace. Blessed are You Who enables these beloveds to rejoice in one another."

There were more words and more prayers and Quinn and Rachel heard none of them. They were too lost in each other and all they were feeling to do much of anything but stare at the other as they silently communicated how deeply they felt. They whispered their responses, their eyes never leaving each other, and waited until it was time to sign the _ketubah__. Their signatures solidifying their wedding contract were shaky due to Quinn and Rachel's trembling hands, but it made it official, just as their soft kiss had done. Both girls had sighed after the ceremony was over—feeling as though they had just woken up in a dream—their tears mixed as they stood silently, forehead to forehead, living in a moment that seemed to have sped by so quickly neither were really sure it occurred at all. _

_More candles were lit around the backyard as Rabi Greenberg and his family laughed, clapped, and smiled their happiness along with Quinn and Rachel. Soon, Mrs. Greenberg was retrieving food from the kitchen that was completely kosher. Which really just meant it was a normal meal for Rachel and Quinn because the tray of food didn't have meat or dairy. _

_They all sat around the quiet backyard, eating the _challah that Rachel and Quinn had blessed beforehand, while the girls filled in how they fell in love. For once, they had been completely honest about their entire story. The Greenbergs delighted in hearing it and neither Quinn nor Rachel minded be so open. They never came right out and saidthey were in love, but their presence in Rabi Greenberg's backyard spoke for itself.

It was well past three when Rachel's eyes started to flicker shut and Quinn gently nudged her with a smile. They thanked the Greenbergs for everything as they left—the family would also be at the wedding the next day—and quietly got back into Rachel's fathers' car, laden with leftover challah.

Quinn didn't start the car, however, but was content watching Rachel as Rachel watched her right back. Their eyes danced over each other's face as the promised rain finally started to fall. At the sound, they both smiled and their hands reconnected once again. Rachel was asleep before Quinn even put the car in drive.

X

"Raaaachel! Oh, Rachel, my darling daughter!" Rachel woke with a start, sitting up in her bed as if she had only been asleep for a moment; she just had the _strangest _dream ever! She had dreamt that her and Quinn Fabray had falling in love and gotten married! "Raaaaachel! Time to get up!" Rachel shook off the dream at the sound of her dads' voices before throwing the covers over her head. She didn't want to get up for school.

"RACHEL! Don't make me break down this door! No daughter of _mine _will be late for her wedding!" Rachel whipped off the covers and sat up, wide-eyed.

"Forgotten already, have you?" Quinn's voice drawled out beside Rachel, her voice as smug as her smirk.

Rachel scrubbed her face to get her bearings before she quickly glanced at her bedside clock. "Crap! I overslept!" Rachel leapt out of the bed and yanked her bedroom door open in alarm, pushing passed her fathers to collect all of her things before the hair and Kurt would arrive, before stoping abruptly in the hallway. "Crap!" She swore again before she ran back into her bedroom. "I am so sorry!" She apologized sincerely with a wince before leaning across her bed to kiss Quinn's lips softly.

"So far, Rachel Berry, you are proving to be a lousy wife." Quinn smiled at Rachel's frown. "Falling asleep on me last night in the car, forgetting my morning kiss." Quinn folded her arms behind her head and enjoyed Rachel's pout. "I have half a mind not to go through with the second wedding."

"Ha, Ha. Very funny, _Mrs. _Fabray." Quinn gave Rachel a cheesy smile that Rachel grudgingly returned before dropping another kiss to Quinn's lips. "Better hurry, Kurt and the hair people will be here soon." Rachel spun around and just managed to kiss both of her fathers' cheeks before sprinting down the hallway.

The Berry men hadn't heard Quinn and Rachel's conversation, but were, nevertheless, looking at Quinn with puzzled expressions at her suddenly appearance. They were pretty sure that when Rachel had gone to bed that night, she had been alone. "Hi." Quinn smiled at them, completely at ease.

Then, from somewhere in the house, Rachel screamed. "I'M GETTING MARRIED TODAY!"

The Berry men turned back to look at Quinn. "Who's in the mood for potato and green onion frittatas?"

Quinn hummed while she cooked, smiling all the while, as Rachel spun around the house like a tornado trying to get ready. If was only after Quinn demanded her _wife_ join her for their first breakfast together that Rachel sat still long enough to enjoy the frittatas. Soon, Quinn was being pushed out the door to leave for Santana and Brittany's apartment where she would be meeting everyone.

She had barely made it into the car, however, when a red SUV pulled up to the Berry house. Quinn wasn't sure why, but she froze as she waited for the guy inside to step out, and when he did, Quinn didn't hesitate to do the same.

Puck cracked a grin when he saw her and smirked while his eyes took her in, his tux slung over his shoulder. "Baby mama."

"Puck." They were ten feet apart, but it felt a lot closer.

"You look good. She agrees with you." Quinn nodded.

"You look good, too. Rach told me about college and the restaurant."

"Changing your mind about Berry? Want to jump on this before there's a line?" Quinn could have scoffed and mentioned that she makes more money than even Rachel does. Or that she was already half of a somewhat famous couple. She could have even mentioned that she was already married. Or, most importantly, that she was madly in love.

But instead, Quinn just smiled. "I'm glad it was you, Noah." Puck absorbed the comment and nodded, understanding what Quinn was really saying.

"You too." They stared at each other for another moment before Puck nodded and took off for the front door. Quinn waited another minute before getting into the car.

"Noah! Thank, God you're here!" Rachel grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and jerked him inside to where the hair dresser was waiting. "You _must _tell me which way my hair looks better!"

Puck twisted his lips as the eyes or all three Berrys and the aggravated hairstylist stared at him before glancing around the room. "_Man, _I'm the first one here?" He huffed loudly as he rolled his eyes. "Half up and half down but curly." He admitted grudgingly.

Quinn could barely make it into Santana and Brittany's apartment there were so many girls racing about. Because all of the boys were meeting at the Berrys, all of the girls—including Mike and Sam's girlfriends, and Rachel's friend Jen from Julliard—were meeting at the Lopez/Pierce residence. That was ten girls to one bathroom. It was sheer madness.

Between the camera crews and the celebrities, everyone was dead-set against looking nothing but their best. If Quinn wasn't already married, she'd be pretty pissed that she barely got a hello when she walked into the door.

But nothing was going to ruin her day. Because she _was _already married. And she felt all giddy because of it. Especially because Rachel washed the dishes after breakfast. Somehow, that made everything so magical in Quinn's eyes.

Thank, God for Mercedes. Because once her maid of honor saw her standing there, watching the girls run around like chickens with their heads cut off—all except Lydia who was just sitting on the couch reading a magazine in a suit, her long, dark hair piled on top of her head—she took Quinn into the bathroom, kicked everyone out, and gave her a hug.

"Today's the day, Q. You nervous?" Mercedes asked with a squeal.

Quinn laughed at her enthusiasm and gave her best friend another hug. She didn't feel like she actually needed to answer the question.

X

"I just don't understand why the baby can't be your maid of honor, Quinn. The baby would walk down the aisle first, _then _Santana because the baby sticks out in front of her, _then _Mercedes, and _then _me."

"Because we don't know the sex of the baby yet and it could very well be a boy. And then in that case, he'd be in Rachel's wedding party. So we don't want to risk anything. That's why _I'm _the maid of honor." Mercedes shook out her lilac dress softly at the bottom as she waited for the music to start. Santana stood directly behind her as Brittany rubbed her lower back, and Quinn watched the scene with a beaming smile she couldn't turn off.

As predicted, it was raining softly and it was music to Quinn's ears. In the small white tent that was constructed for the event, the pellets of rain beaded off of it, making everything seem lovely. She knew that in the tent over, Rachel was probably still freaking out, driving all the boys crazy, but it only made Quinn smile more.

"Rachel! I swear to GOD I will kidnap you before your own wedding and hide you in the trunk of my car if you don't calm the hell down!"

Rachel placed her hand on her hip and glared at Kurt before she recovered quickly. "I'll have you know, Kurt Hummel, that I am relatively calm."

Kurt, Puck, and Mike rolled their eyes. "It's natural to be nervous, Rach." Mike tried to sooth with a shrug. Outside, the music started to play softly and Charlene appeared at the mouth of the tent.

"Are we ready?" She asked excitedly before fixing each boys' lilac bowtie. As Charlene lined everyone up, Rachel thought over what Mike had said as she smiled and finally relaxed. _But I'm not nervous. I'm just really, really excited. _After that, Rachel was just fine.

Kurt excited the tent where he met Mercedes at the start of the aisle. They smiled at one another before she intertwined her arm with his and they each took a deep breath before heading down the lilac runner.

Puck and Santana were next. He rubbed her belly fondly—getting her to punch him in the arm—before the followed behind Mercedes and Kurt. Brittany bounced out of the tent where she met Mike. He twirled her quickly before they started their walk.

There had been a great deal of debate amongst the studio about what would happen next. Some suggested that Russell Fabray guide Quinn down the aisle while Rachel's fathers each took an arm and guided her. But the other half claimed it would appear lopsided. Others thought Judy should also escort Quinn so everything would be even. But the aisle wasn't that wide and then it was a matter of who would go down the aisle first and if they should make their entrance from the wings and blah, blah, blah. It was then heavily debated if they should split Rachel's fathers up—each girl would get a Berry man, especially because Quinn didn't want her parents there. But then the studio was worried that they'd pick the wrong father to give to the wrong girl. If Rachel got the "Jewish" father, she'd look like she didn't really accept her "black" father. And if they gave Quinn the "Jewish" father, than it would seem as if they were intentionally trying to appear PC.

But for Rachel and Quinn, the answer had been easy—and not just because Quinn didn't want her parents near her. As the instrumental for _One Hand, One Heart _from _West Side Story _started to play, Rachel and Quinn slowly emerged from their tents. Rachel's eyes immediately sought out Quinn, but Quinn kept her head down until they finally met at start of the aisle.

Quinn glanced up and her body trembled with the force of Rachel's beauty. Rachel was already crying as her eyes danced across Quinn's face. Rachel laughed softly as Quinn brushed her tears away, skimming Rachel's bottom lip to stop a tear in its tracks. Rachel softly kissed Quinn's thumb before she took Quinn's hand in hers.

"You look perfect." Rachel whispered, not at all concerned that almost five hundred pairs of eyes were watching and waiting.

"You look beyond beautiful, Rachel." She raised their joined hands and quickly kissed the back of Rachel's before giving it a squeeze.

From the first row of seats, the sounds of both of Rachel's fathers sobbing loudly reached their ears, getting them to laugh. And that was why Rachel didn't want her fathers to be walking her down the aisle. They were a couple of sobbing messes and Rachel was pretty sure it would have been up to _her_ to comfort _them. _

"You ready for this, superstar?" They stared at each other for a moment longer, softly smiling their love.

"It _was _rather enjoyable marrying you the first time. I suppose I could do it again." Quinn gave a watery laugh and squeezed Rachel's hand again.

"Then let's go. Or else I'm pretty sure Ms. Sylvester is going to come down her and drag us up the aisle." Rachel giggled and leaned into Quinn as they both began to walk. They didn't take their eyes off of one another the whole time.

They missed the mingled faces of celebrities, family, friends, and curious Limaites (Limains?) as they walked. They just held each other's hand as they stared at one another, Rachel's head on Quinn's shoulder as Quinn's head rested on Rachel's. They didn't even notice that it was still raining softly or that Charlene had constructed a roof of sorts with all different colored umbrellas strung together over their heads. The girls wanted a spring wedding and they got one.

"Finally." Sue mumbled as they stood in front of her. Thankfully, she was wearing a suit, and she glowered at them before she slipped on her glasses and looked down at the notes in her hands. Quinn and Rachel smiled at one another as they mentally started their drinking tally for their game. That was a Sue Sylvester insult. "I had some nice things to say about Berry here, and Q. But they took too long walking up the aisle so I'll have to skip it."

There was a quiver of laughter throughout the audience of those who knew Sue, everyone else traded blank stares. But it made Quinn and Rachel laugh, so Sue was happy she had said it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to celebrate the remarkable union of two very remarkable women. If laws could be defined by the way two people look at one another, this would be an actual wedding ceremony. But since the government is run by a bunch of soulless dumbasses, we'll just have to celebrate the fact that Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry have got love coming out of each breath they share. Vote Sue Sylvester in September"

Both Rachel and Quinn covered their faces to contain their laughter before they traded amused smiles. It went on much like that throughout the whole ceremony, and neither Quinn nor Rachel would regret a moment of it.

They exchanged traditional vows and, just like their other ceremony, never looked away from one another. Periodically, Rachel would wipe away Quinn's tears only for Quinn to turn around and do the same for Rachel a moment later. Sue kept them laughing throughout, although she hadn't actually insulted them, and it felt really nice that they were in Lima, surrounded by their past, present, and future—where it had all started.

Their "I Do's" where barely said above whispers, only meant for each other's ears, and their kiss had been soft and shy. They held each other for a long while as everyone clapped and cheered around them, but they were only aware of each other.

"Thank you for being my best friend, Quinn." Rachel cried softly as she held her wife. Quinn buried her face in Rachel's neck as she smiled.

"Thank you for being my everything, Rachel." They processed down the aisle to _They Can't Take That Away from Me_ because even if it is kind of sad, it held a lot of great memories for both girls and no one could take that away from them—including each other. They were happy now and that's all that mattered.

On the other side of the Lima park, the reception was already set up under a huge tent, and the guests took off towards the open bar and hors d'oeuvres as Quinn, Rachel, their wedding parties, and Rachel's fathers met them in one of the tents for pictures. The camera crew and the videographer Charlene had hired jostled over the best pictures and angles. But Rachel and Quinn were wonderfully unaware as they laughed together.

Kurt cut in to add touch ups to makeup, and again, Quinn and Rachel kept talking. They spoke of each other's dresses, their hairstyles, jewelry, makeup, shoes, parts in Sue's speech. They had to be filled in on which celebrities had actually attended and how Patches the homeless man in town actually showed up. They all sipped champagne and talked as the cameras shot away—everyone, it seemed, concerned to look their best in the pictures, except for the brides. They were more concerned with each other. Finally the crews gave up.

The group was all set to head over to the other side of the park for the reception until the girls had to hang back to help Santana pee. But eventually they all made it over there and Quinn and Rachel immediately went to the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple.

"So what song did you pick?" Quinn asked as she took Rachel's hand in her own as held her wife's hip softly.

Rachel smiled shyly up at Quinn from beneath her eyelashes. "I hope it's okay."

"I'm sure it will be." It only made sense that Rachel would pick the song. Not only because she had such broad musical knowledge and was very stubborn, but also because Quinn didn't want to label their relationship _for _Rachel. She wanted the decision to rest solely on her diva. She knew the selection would speak volumes.

_Maybe I'm Amazed _started to play and Quinn's face drained of all color. "Quinn? Did I-did I not chose well?"

Quinn listened to the lyrics she knew so well and shook her head as her eyes started to tear once again. Softly, she placed her cheek against Rachel and held her wife tighter. "You chose perfectly, Rach." And she had. Every word _was _perfect. Well…except for maybe a pronoun or two. But she knew that it spoke every feeling that Rachel wanted to express. And it was perfect.

Soon Quinn and Rachel were joined by all of their friends. They hadn't let go of each other so everyone just danced around them as the DJ started to play faster music. Bruce Channel's _Hey Baby_ started them off. They all twisted and sang with each other with flutes of champagne, bottles of beer, and tumblers of liquor in their hands. Brittany dominated the dance floor with _Maneater_, but Mike would not be denied. Soon, Matt was joining them in a dance off that they all won. Everyone but Santana was jumping up and down when _My Sharona _played, followed by a lot of close dancing when _Forever_ came on.

And through it all, Rachel and Quinn held each other. _The Twist_, _American Girl, _the latest Gaga, even _Ballroom Blitz_—they danced them all with only each other.

Sure, others tried to cut in. The glee club surrendered finally, when it seemed the girls weren't separating, and they all crowded around them, hugging as a group, as they swayed as one. Jeremy, decked out in a kilt to match Lydia's suit, was more than happy to hold both girls as they three of them swayed. Will and Emma danced beside them, Rachel's fathers did as well, and Ainsley and Charlene too; Jesse was too busy with the girl he had met at the bar—which incidentally, turned out to be Holly Holiday—so he didn't really mind that he didn't get a dance.

No one wanted to leave the dance floor, it was too fun. One person would make a drink run and they'd switch the job up, but the music was too good and they were all together again, and everyone was happy. It felt right.

As _Bennie and the Jets _played, Rachel held Quinn a little closer and brushed aside a piece of Quinn's hair. "We haven't had anything to drink."

"Hmmm." Quinn hummed back, her forehead against Rachel's.

"I suppose since no one really did any of the things we thought they would, it stands to reason we wouldn't. But still, can I get you any champagne?" Quinn shook her head as she closed her eyes.

"I'm fine." _Perfect, even. _

"Noah has been on perfect behavior, and I'm pretty sure I overheard Tina mention that she was going to go home with him because she was the only one in high school that hadn't and wanted to see what all the fuss was about." Quinn laughed at that but kept her eyes closed. "When Santana isn't flirting with Brittany she just mumbles as she cries about love and our happiness. Mercedes hasn't mentioned tots, Brittany has been completely non-random, Artie is just really sweet, and everyone is having too much fun to mention Finn or any other high school scandal."

"I know. Even Ms. Sylvester has been really nice. She complimented me on my strong ankles during the vows."

Rachel giggled and rested her head against Quinn's shoulder as they twirled amongst everyone else as _I'll Be _started to play. "I don't feel it was quite necessary that she added that _you _should have the children to carry on said strong ankles, but all in all, it was a very sweet ceremony."

Quinn hummed again in agreement and then they both feel silent. It was the end of the reception. The crowd was thinning and only a few close friends and family members remained on the dance floor. Soon they'd be whisked away into a limo and on a plane to their honeymoon. Five short days with nothing and no one but each other. It sounded like heaven to both of them.

At the exact moment, they both opened their eyes to stare at one another. Their soft smiles spoke more than their words could. "I love dancing with you." Quinn whispered.

Rachel ducked her head shyly before looking back up at her wife. "I love dancing with you, too, Quinn."

Quinn bit her lip to hide her smile. "What's the giant smile for, Quinn Fabray?" Rachel asked playfully.

Quinn shook her head but continued to smile until it broke into laughter. "What's so funny? Tell me!" Rachel pouted.

With a twirl, Quinn moved them around the dance floor and away from the Berry men who had been dancing closely by. "I was just thinking…"

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking…" Quinn's smile grew mischievous. "I do love dancing with you…"

"And?" Rachel demanded, her eyebrows knitted by her wife's secrecy.

Quinn moved closer and her lips brushed against Rachel's ear. "But I prefer when you're dancing on my lap."

It was at that exact moment, the photographer snapped the final picture of the night, during the final song, during the final dance. Quinn's devilish grin was the perfect frame to Rachel's wide eyes and scarlet face.

It was time for the honeymoon.


	16. Chapter 16 Fools Rush In

_Apologies, there will be many mistakes. Also, the next chapter is already half written. Thank you so much for reading and all your amazing words. I got to go, my vacation just started and my sister will kick my ass if I don't get in the car. I hope you enjoy. _

Chapter Sixteen: Fools Rush In

Rachel's eyes were still wide as her fathers swooped down upon the girls to rain kisses and hugs on them. The limo had just pulled up, and soon the gleeks were enveloping them with drunken, sloppy kisses and bear hugs as they said their goodbyes. In the center of the pileup was a smirking Quinn and a flushed Rachel. A _very _flushed Rachel whose mind was whirling.

_How did she…_

_She couldn't…_

_Our disguise was flawless._

_Our accent was perfect._

_There's no way she knows!_

_Then why did she say it?_

_I have no flobbing clue but there's no way!_

_She's smirking at us! _

_Oh, goodness, she knows!_

_But, but, but we…we…_

_And all over her…_

_And she…_

_And I…_

_We…_

_This is all _your _fault!_

My _fault? It was _your _idea to give her the lap dance to begin with, you harlot! _

_Harlot? I'll have you know that I—_

_Oh save it, Berry! This is beyond humiliating! _

_And that better be Quinn's hand on our ass! _

_EW, why is Artie smirking at us? _

_Forget about that, how could we have let this happen?_

_Do you honestly remember _anything at all _once we caught that look on Quinn's face? The look of unadorned lust?_

_Dear, God, no! It was like I wasn't in control! _

_Like the allure of Quinn was so great that nothing else seemed to matter!_

_But she said she couldn't touch us because we weren't her fiancée…that implies she didn't know it was us! _

_But she said…she said lap dance…_

_Well she _better _had known it was us after all she did! She touched us!_

_Yes, I remember vividly…Funny how easily I had forgotten before…_

_Well, her thighs _were _exposed. _

_Luscious thighs…_

_She's the harlot! Showing us her thighs in a wicked attempt to seduce us! And so what if it was our idea to hike her dress up, it doesn't give her the right to be so damn sexy! She touched us! _

_She grabbed our ass…_

_She brought us to orgasm! _

_Making us ride her thigh…_

_Saying all those dirty things!_

_Dirty…oh, so dirty…sexy…_

_She has a lot of explaining to do! _

_Oh, so sexy…_

_Get a hold of yourself!_

_Sweet, My Little Pony we're being pressed up against her right now!_

"Rach? Are you ready to go?"

_Why is she whispering in our ear like that?_

_Her face buried in her neck…I can't breathe!_

_It's okay, it will be just fine. Relax. _

_Relax? Relax? We're about to spend the next four days and five nights with her! Alone! _

_And…I'm _sure _it will…be…just…oh no. _

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it! _

_No, no, stop. We can handle this!_

_Handle this? We're married! _

_Really? _Now _you choose to freak out about that? _

_We're married and about to go on our honeymoon where we'll spend every waking minute with one another. Oh, God…are we going to have sex?_

_Yes. _

_What? _

_I mean…um…no, no that wouldn't come up at alllll. _

_Great googley moogley, we're going to have sex with Quinn Fabray! _

_I suddenly want to invent a time machine and travel back to our sixteen year old self and nod sagely at her while I wink and recline against a brick wall. We're going to have lesbian sex with Quinn Fabray! _

"I'm still waiting for an answer, Rach."

_Do you think we could blog about it afterwards? I mean…I'm sure _many _people will be interested in hearing how truly spectacular it ought to be. I'm not one to brag, but, having sex with Quinn Fabray is _kind of _a big deal! _

_Quinn may frown upon that. And you basically have the exclusive rights to bragging. _

_Well she doesn't have to know, per se, about the blogging…_

_Oh, God! _

_What?_

_What if it isn't good? We've never had sex with a woman before! _

_And the only sex we've actually had was with Finn Hudson those three rather awkward times! _

_I don't even remember! _

_You don't? Crap, I was relying on you! Those were our only sexual experiences! What if we're no good? _

_Well I hardly feel the definition of good should require thoughts of Finn Hudson…_

_Focus! Everything has been building for so long! What if it's bad! Then Quinn will leave us! _

_We should have had more sex! _

_With women! _

_Or with just Quinn! _

_We should have practiced! _

_Oh my, God! _

_What? What? _

_I can't believe it…we waited until marriage! Quinn and us waited until marriage to have sex! _

_The lone Celibacy Club members…in retrospect that was a bad idea! _

_There's nothing ironic about that. And I appreciate irony! _

_Well at least we did one thing in this relationship correctly, after all the lies and deceit, at least- _

"RACHEL!"

Rachel jumped in the air, startled by Quinn's voice. Rachel shook her head and glanced around. The gleeks, her fathers, and Quinn were all standing there just staring at her.

"You okay?" Quinn asked, worried over Rachel's faraway look; the girl looked decidedly freaked.

"I think Artie grabbed my ass." Rachel mumbled distractedly. All eyes snapped to the boy who ducked his head and looked away guiltily.

For the moment, Quinn dismissed it and moved closer to her wife. She was suddenly regretting bring up the lap dance. Rachel's face had gone from bright red to chalk-white within minutes and Quinn was concerned she spooked the girl. "Hey, it's okay." Quinn whispered for her wife's ears only.

_Nice job. _

_Shut up. _

_She's freaking out. _

_I was just being playful and flirty like you told me to be!_

_Well now she's freaking out. I guess we know where the honeymoon stands…_

_No, don't say that. We have five days. There's plenty of time to—_

_What? Seduce her? Force her to do something she isn't ready to do? _

_She wants it just as bad as we do! Maybe even more so! She's been trying to get us in bed looong before that lap dance. _

_So why is she so freaked out now? Why isn't she flirting back? _

_Maybe she's just caught off-guard. _

_You'd think she'd be pleased to know that we knew it was her all along…_

_This is just ridiculous. _

_It's frustrating but we'll get through it. _

_It would just be really nice if Rachel would let her guard down for one moment. _

_I knew I shouldn't have told her about Shelby's gift! _

_Her mom sent her a present, she had a right to know. _

_Flatware with a card signed, "Love Beth?" You really think she needed to find that out? _

_Full disclosure. We're being honest now. Completely honest. _

_Fine. Then I want to drink on the honeymoon. _

_Quinn, do you really think that's such a good idea?_

_Screw it. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that I haven't loved her for all these years and I don't want to hold back anymore. We're married for God's sake! _

_So we're just going to keep doing what we have been doing…plus alcohol? _

_She came on her thigh, I'm pretty sure we're past pleasantries and cordial kisses. _

_Okay. So that solves that problem. _

_And I want to get to know her better…like, really talk. _

_Now I'm confused, I thought the time for talking was over. _

_Only a handful of times we've really discussed different things. I want to keep going with that. We'll talk about Beth and my family. Shelby. Finn. High school. Maybe, and this is a big maybe…maybe we can tell her about graduation night. Why we lied, what we figured out. _

_What _you _figured out, I've known all along. _

_Yes! We'll talk about our motives in high school! Tell her about…about how that proposal on her birthday was real. _

_You're just going for broke, now. _

_I want her to know everything. And then, maybe, in turn, she'll tell us everything. _

_Like how amazing that lap dance was. _

_I'd be quite willing to have a very long discussion with her about that. _

_Okay, let's get this started. And there better be a mini fridge in the limo. _

Quinn advanced on Rachel and carefully took her wife's hand in her own. Rachel glanced up shyly, staring at Quinn through her bangs, and took in Quinn's smile. It was so soft and caring, it was easy for Rachel to grin back. "Ready to go, superstar?" She whispered.

"Yes." Rachel answered back. While Quinn was busy in her own head, Rachel considered her own nerves closely. Was she nervous for her and Quinn's next step? Of course, but, she reasoned, she didn't seem to have a problem pleasing Quinn via lap dance. She's never really had to try with Quinn at all.

They pair stood there, gazing at one another, as the party around them broke up slowly. It was just Quinn and Rachel. Putting too much thought in everything usually just muddied the waters. So Rachel resigned herself to just clear her mind and act. Not think about the big stuff. Take things slowly and see where they head.

"Let's go." Rachel whispered as she leaned against Quinn, wrapping her arm around her slim waist and guiding them towards the awaiting limo. Quinn took this as a very good sign. They were almost too absorbed in each other to say goodbye to everyone. The gleeks and the Berry men met them at the limo and one more quick hug and goodbye was offered before the girls hopped in the limo.

"All set, Mrs. Fabray and Mrs. Berry?"

"Yes." Quinn answered, her voice only shaking slightly. There was a lot lying on this trip. She needed to stay focused. "Rach, hand me that champagne."

X

Under normal circumstances, waking up surrounded by your wife the first morning of your honeymoon is a good thing. You nuzzle, you kiss, whisper words of love, before you have room service deliver you a decadent spread and make passionate love all day without getting out of bed.

But on that particular morning, as Quinn blinked rapidly against the blaring sunlight, she wasn't exactly sure _where _she was. "Rach?" Quinn whispered out hoarsely. The bed beside her was cold and she felt around a little bit more just to check.

Her wild blonde hair cascaded over several white fluffy pillows and the blanket half on half off was covering up bare legs. One peek underneath told her that she was very naked, except for a pair of blue panties she was positive she didn't wear to the wedding.

Quinn scrubbed her face and sat up as she held her palm to her head.

_What the hell happened last night? _

_We're not wearing clothes. _

_And I'm pretty sure these are Rachel's panties. _

_Shit! Did we miss it? Did we have sex with Rachel and missed it? _

_Think! What happened? _

_I remember the limo ride. _

_And the toasts. _

_We made a lot of them. _

_And I remember the plane…well…_

_I remember _seeing _a plane. God, how much champagne did we have?_

"You're awake." Quinn's neck snapped towards the sound coming from the open archway that lead into a living room-type area. Quinn hadn't even noticed the place they were staying. One floor, lots of glass all around—_Which explains why it's so freaking bright in here!—_and a relaxed, beach-y atmosphere.

Rachel smiled as she leaned up against the archway, watching the deer-in-headlights look on Quinn's face only grow. "Hi."

"Hello, yourself. How'd you sleep?" Rachel asked as she smirked and folded her arms against her chest, just watching Quinn.

Quinn smiled thickly and ran her fingers through her disheveled hair. "Okay, I think." Rachel chuckled at that and wondered how much she should say.

"You were awfully active in your sleep. You kept me up half the night."

"I am _so _sorry, Rach. I don't know what the hell happened to me."

"You went months without drinking and then polished off almost two bottles of champagne yourself on an empty stomach." Rachel's smile grew and Quinn fell back onto the bed in exasperation.

_Because of _course _would you mess this up! _

"Why am I naked?" Quinn asked, covering her hands with her face to hide her blush. Rachel cleared her voice to hide her laughter and slowly moved into the room.

"Well…you consumed quite a bit of champagne last evening and you were hot. So you simply took your clothes off to cool down."

Quinn let out a sigh of relief. _But wait..._ "Then why am I wearing your underwear?"

Rachel bit her lip to conceal her smirk and looked down at the soft creamed tiles on the floor. "You weren't patient enough to get to your suitcase?"

The question at the end was so soft that Quinn didn't even pick up on it. She just nodded against the many pillows under her head and promised herself she wouldn't drink so much next time. "Again, I'm sorry. Did you have to take care of me?" Quinn asked guiltily as she sat up on her elbows to look at Rachel.

_Wait a second…_

Rachel was moments away from busting out laughing. Her face was beat red and her body was shaking. "Oh, God, what did I do?"

She covered her face with her hands as the laughter grew inside of her, and Quinn watched on in horror. Soon, Rachel was doubled-over and holding her sides to keep it all in.

"Rachel! What did I do?"

Rachel shook her wife off and quickly righted herself. "Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it. You were just very silly last evening. I'm sorry you don't remember it." She wiped her tears away and smiled broadly at the suspicious Quinn. "I reserved us a table at the hotel's restaurant. Whenever you're ready, we can go."

Rachel quickly turned and hurried off towards the living room so Quinn wouldn't see her trying to keep from laughing.

Quinn fell back on the bed with a loud sigh and she tried to wrack her brain over her behavior the previous night. But nothing was sticking. Tiredly, Quinn dragged herself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get ready to go, not concerned that she was almost completely naked.

"RACHEL!"

Two rooms over, Rachel laughed quietly to herself. _I guess Quinn found Lydia, Jeremy, and Jess' wedding present. _

Quinn stared down, horrified at the floor of the bathroom. The clothes she changed into after the wedding were pooled on the floor—all of them—and a pile of different kinds of novelty items were littered around: handcuffs, edible underwear and body creams, whips, costumes, and—Quinn's face flared red hot. Her big toe pushed away the sundress she had worn the night before to expose a pink, silicone vibrator. The box all the toys came in lay half unwrapped and discarded in the shower. "Oh my, God."

"_Rachel, you better get ready, baby! I'm about to return the favor." Quinn quickly slipped off her dress and pushed down her bra and panties as she stared into the bathroom mirror. _

"_Um, Quinn…maybe you should have some water first!" Rachel called back from the bedroom. _

"_No, no, no! I said I was sorry about the whole lap dance thing and I'm about to make it up to you, superstar." _

Quinn sucked on her teeth and pursed her lips at the flash of the memory. _This is without a doubt, the most humiliating experience_. "Rachel! Get your ass in here!"

Rachel appeared a moment later, still trying—and failing—to hold in her laughter. "Yes, _baby_?" Rachel husked playfully. Quinn was glaring at her, but Rachel didn't care—Quinn was still only wearing panties, the world was perfect for Rachel Berry at that moment.

"What the hell happened last night?" Quinn hissed as her arm swept to indicate all the toys.

Rachel schooled her features with a frown and tapped her finger against her chin. "Gee, Quinn. I just can't recall. Now we really must be off, I'm ravenous after all the activity last evening." Rachel fluttered her eyelashes innocently before smirking smugly at Quinn. "Hurry along, dear." Rachel called out over her shoulder as she moved into the bedroom.

Quinn mumbled curses under her breath as she threw the empty box that contained all the toys out of the shower and slammed the glass door closed. "Just fucking perfect." She muttered as she scrubbed the shampoo in her hair fiercely. "She has another thing coming if she even considers for a _second _that I'm speaking to her today!"

But, alas, that plan didn't happen. Because the second the newlyweds stepped into the hotel's bustling restaurant, they were surrounded by the staff. Each member were flailing and ass kissing as they escorted the famous couple to their very public table right in the middle of the restaurant. Anyone entering the hotel or the dining area would see them clearly, and if the mere presence of all the staff wasn't enough, the balloons tied to their chairs declaring "Congratulations," and "Just Married," would certainly draw attention.

"This is just fucking perfect." Quinn mumbled through a fake smile and nodded to the staff. She and Rachel weren't even giving an option, their chairs were placed right next to one another.

"Now, sweetie, don't be grumpy." Rachel answered back playfully as she observed her menu.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "I want a divorce." She singsong-ed through another tightlipped smile as a waiter placed a bowl of fruit down on the table.

Rachel plucked a grape from the bowl and turned to face Quinn. "Well that will just have to wait until the honeymoon is over; you tell these people you're newlyweds and they fawn all over you." Rachel said happily as she pushed the gape against Quinn's unyielding lips. "Now open up before the staff thinks we're having a fight." Quinn glared at Rachel heavily but accepted the grape nonetheless.

Suddenly, Rachel's mouth was a hairsbreadth away from Quinn's as her fingers held her wife's chin in place. "Now kiss me like we spent all night making love." She husked.

Much to Quinn's chagrin, her eyes slid closed immediately as she glided her lips against Rachel's. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it, Mrs. Fabray?" Rachel breathed out against Quinn's mouth. Quinn shook her head, eyes still closed, as she took in a shuttering breath.

"You're going to tell me _everything _that happened last night." Quinn whispered back as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Rachel stared quietly, loving the way Quinn's hazel eyes snapped and crackled with desire and anger.

"Perhaps." Rachel stated evenly and fed Quinn a strawberry. "I'm famished, what shall we have?"

They ate their egg-white omelets in relative quiet. Quinn was trying to jog her memory to fully remember what had occurred the night before. She had been unsuccessful. Every time she tried to get Rachel talking, her wife would fed her another piece of fruit and dismiss the question.

"I'm in the mood for the beach. How about you?" Rachel asked as they stood. She dropped some bills on the table for the tip and glanced up at her wife.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever." Rachel rolled her eyes at Quinn's behavior before reaching out. "What's this?" Quinn asked, confused, as she accepted the dollar bill Rachel was handing her.

"Oh, you know. Your tip for last night's dance." Rachel whispered, pleased as punch, before beaming up at the hotel manager as he approached.

"I take it breakfast was to your liking?" He asked both girls. Rachel immediately chimed in on her thoughts while Quinn stood beside her fuming. With a slight bow, the manager left the two girls and Rachel steered them down the long hallway towards their room.

_If she thinks I'm putting up with this for the next four days, she's insane. _

_Like she's so innocent. _

_She started this whole lap dance thing! _

_Oh, God, _did _we give her a lap dance? _

_No, we couldn't have. We were too unstable! _

_We were wasted. There's no way. Berry's just messing with us. _

…_We did strip though. _

_Don't remind me! _

_At least none of the toys made it out of the bedroom. _

_Look at her smirking. She's just oh, so pleased with herself. _

"Are you ladies headed to the beach?" The woman at the front desk asked the two girls approached.

Rachel grinned happily and nodded. "Just on our way to get changed."

"Well may I recommend…" The woman kept talking as the evil thought planted itself in Quinn's head. Quietly, she moved closer to her wife and pressed her chest against Rachel's back.

"Just remember whose thigh you came all over Berry. Sometimes," Quinn whispered even quieter as her nose skimmed the shell of Rachel's here. "I think I can still smell you on me."

"And the parasailing is really excellent! Here's a brochure!"

"Why, thank you. You have been _such _a help to us." Quinn grinned widely as she moved passed Rachel and accepted the brochure from the woman's hand. "Come along, sweet pea. We don't want to miss having the best spot on the beach." Her tone was light, but her eyebrow was raised in challenge as she stared at Rachel. For her part, Rachel's face was frozen, her eyes wide, and her skin flushed.

Without waiting, Quinn strutted towards their room, hips swaying, as she reveled in the point she had just scored.

_If Rachel thinks I'm just going to sit back and let her torture me, she's sadly mistaken. _

_Oh! Bring up all the stuff that happened not too long ago!_

_How she used to walk around in just her towel and throw herself at me all the time! Brilliant. _

_God, I love to watch that woman squirm. _

_Always have. _

_Always will. _

_Best. Honeymoon. Ever!_

_I hope she wears a bikini…_

The air changed drastically once Rachel finally made it into the room. She swept in and slammed the door behind her before making a beeline towards the bedroom.

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" Quinn asked with a mock pout; she was currently removing her bra as she held her white bikini in her hands, in no rush to cover up.

Rachel's eyes raced over Quinn's body before she glared at her wife. Then her expression changed into a sweet smile. "Nothing's wrong, darling, everything is _just _fine." With that, Rachel dropped her skirt and threw off her top. Quinn's eyes never left her body as Rachel stalked over to her suitcase and yanked out her dark green bikini.

Quinn smirked and kicked her panties to the floor, daring Rachel to turn around. And she did. She watched as her wife's eyes darkened drastically as she took in her naked form before her eyes snapped up to stare at Quinn's amused ones.

"It appears to be a lovely day for the beach." Quinn commented conversationally as she wasted time fumbling with the bathing suit in her hands as though she was having a difficult time figuring out how it worked.

"Indeed." Rachel replied dryly before she removed her bra and panties as well. Quinn licked her lips as she stared at Rachel, feeling her body heat up. She knew she was staring and didn't care. "You seem to be having difficulty figuring out how your suit works, sweetheart. Did you need some help?" Rachel asked with a mock sympathetic expression.

Quinn could only swallow, and soon, Rachel was approaching, still very naked. "Here, let me help you." She took the bikini from Quinn's hands and dropped to her knees. "One leg at a time." She said smugly as she held out the bathing suit for Quinn.

_That's right, Fabray. Challenge accepted. _

_She's in for a rude awakening if she thinks that I don't know how to play this game. _

_I'm an actress, I _live _for this. _

But as Quinn smirked down at Rachel, suddenly the diva didn't seem so certain anymore.

_It's never a good sign when Quinn Fabray smirks in a situation where you think you have the upper hand. _

_No, never. _

And then it all became clear to Rachel.

_I didn't think this through…_

Quinn lifted her leg and exposed herself to Rachel fully, getting Rachel to choke on her smug expression. Quinn heard the sharp intake of breath of smirked even more. "Are you sure you know what you're doing down there?" Quinn asked lightly, with a hint of teasing in her tone.

Rachel's head jerked up towards Quinn and she glowered before hastily slipping the bikini bottoms up Quinn's long legs. "I trust you can take care of the top?" Rachel asked as she got to her feet and nearly stomped over to her bathing suit.

"Why so surely, Rach, it's our honeymoon after all." Quinn smiled falsely, hoping it would rile up Rachel even more.

But Quinn had hit on a shore subject, asking Rachel if she knew what she was doing down there. It held so much innuendo that Rachel was mad she even put herself in _that _position to begin with. Because now she was beyond horny.

She mumbled unintelligently to herself as she quickly shoved her bikini on and stuffed her hat on top of her head. "Almost ready, wifey?" Rachel smiled and slid on her sunglasses.

"Whenever you are, honey." Quinn dazzled, placing her hat and sunglasses on as well. Rachel rolled her eyes and collected the bag she wanted to bring along with her. Quinn followed behind, wrapping her sarong around her waist as she stared down at Rachel's ass.

"We'll need to rent chairs and an umbrella." Rachel commented as they made their way towards the door.

"Let me carry your bag for you; it looks heavy." Quinn said gently, not wanting the tension in the air to stray far from playful. After all, she still wanted to have fun with Rachel. She still wanted to be able to talk and discuss everything to clear the air.

As Rachel handed over the bag, she looked up at Quinn, puzzled. "Thank you." She replied timidly.

"Sure thing."

Rachel shot off the ground with a jump as Quinn moved passed her, smiling smugly with both bags in her hands. What could Quinn say, Rachel had a damn fine ass. Why shouldn't she smack it?

Rachel and Quinn strode out towards the beach with their big floppy hats fluttering in the soft breeze. Behind them, two cabana boys eagerly followed with two chairs, a cooler, and three big bags filled with food, magazines, Rachel's script, four different scripts Quinn needed to read over for her clients, two iPods, sunscreen, and shovels in case they felt like being playful. Of course they also had a huge umbrella. They had dropped quite a bit of money at the gift shop, but both girls were planning on spending most the day at the beach.

"Where do you wanna sit, wifey?" Quinn smirked at the nickname and shook her head. It seemed all Rachel needed was a bit of an ass slap and company to get over her attitude.

"Wherever you'd like to, Rach."

"I think over there is an excellent place." Rachel told the two cabana boys. They hurriedly rushed ahead to set up and Quinn and Rachel exchanged smiles at their compliance. "It really is wonderful having people do things for you."

"It's just like high school only I don't have to say a word." Quinn whispered back as she sat down in her beach chair.

Rachel was quiet as she sat beside her wife, her brows scrunched up. "Quinn…you didn't really need to speak in high school either. You'd simply glower and the world would bend to your will."

Quinn's smile stretch as she lounged in her chair and her arms flopped back behind her head. "Yeah…that was great." Rachel giggled and shook her head at Quinn's honesty. She felt like she had whiplash over Quinn's behavior and her own. On one hand, she was nervous and unsure of how to act around Quinn. She was half desperate half a mess over the idea of taking things further.

It was easier in public. Where there was no pressure. They could just simply _be _together. Alone, all the unanswered questions filled the air like a third party. She understood, now, that Quinn loved her. It was obvious by her wife's blatant behavior that Quinn was attracted to her, and they really were best friends.

_It's just a matter of taking that next step. _

_This is harder than I thought it would be. _

_We're letting our nerves get the better of us. Neither one of us wants to take that next step. _

_Can you blame each other?_

_What do you mean? _

_You're in love. You're married. You've already made out and seen each other naked. Don't you think you missed a crucial step? _

…_A discussion of preferred sexual positions? Thoughts on uses of toys in the bedroom? Long talks of fantasies and, perhaps, kinky behaviors? _

_I was going for more like a date, Rachel. _

_Oh! Um…yes…me too. We'll have to see about setting that up. Wait…is a date _really _necessary? _

_Put it back in your pants and talk to the girl, Rachel! _

"I sometimes miss the all the perks of being a Cheerio. I mean, don't get me wrong, it was Chinese torture on a good day. But there was something to be said for all the free stuff we got. And how everyone treated me like a goddess." Rachel smiled softly as she listened to Quinn. They never really talked about any of that stuff.

"You're absolutely terrible." Rachel said with a laugh. "You were rather mean in case you've forgotten."

Quinn slipped on her avatars back on after she was finished fixing her hair into a mound on top of her head, and looked out towards the ocean. "Would you like me to apologize?" She asked with a shrug.

"Would it be sincere?" Rachel asked with a smile as she turned on her side to observe Quinn.

Quinn glanced over at Rachel before looking back towards the water and scanned the beach around them. It wasn't a particular busy day, but there were a good number of people around. "I think I've already apologized. I was sincere then and if you'd like me to apologize again, it would be just as sincere."

In all honesty, Rachel didn't want Quinn to apologize. She didn't need her to. And there was something ungodly sexy about aloof Quinn to Rachel; it was what was making their game of who can out-flirt the other so much fun…if not a little frustrating. The idea that Quinn was just sitting there, looking around completely unfazed as they spoke of her past indiscretions…Rachel bit her lip as the flair of heat rippled just underneath her skin.

The tension of being in their hotel room alone was gone. They were outside with plenty of witnesses to release the burden of uncertainty. Rachel felt suddenly frisky and playful again, but without the challenge like before. The cabana boys were in the process of setting up the umbrella and Rachel casted them a careful glance before she moved closer to Quinn.

"You already apologized. I remember it vividly." Quinn glanced over at Rachel, caught off-guard by the drop in her wife's voice, and quirked her eyebrow at Rachel's mischievous smirk. "You were on your knees telling me how sorry you were and the next thing I knew I was pinned to my desk. Your apology felt _very _sincere."

Quinn continued to stare at Rachel as Rachel glanced off into the distance, feigning nonchalance. Quinn didn't buy it. She knew by the light blush on Rachel's cheeks that her wife was pleased with herself if not a little shy over the husk of her voice. Quinn quite enjoyed this side of Rachel.

"You're face is getting kind of red, Rach, maybe you should put sunscreen on." Just like Rachel, the challenge was gone from Quinn's voice. She was being playful again and was happy that her wife could simply remember that they loved one another. That they were best friends. That they had been through so much.

Neither of them were entirely sure what was about to come, but maybe that was okay.

"Maybe you could do it for me?" Quinn's eyebrow rose and her lip quirked only slightly.

"Sure." Quinn answered casually before she slipped out of her chair. Rachel scooted forward in her own and Quinn straddled Rachel's back. They sat there for a moment, pressed against each other, before Quinn remembered that actually _having _the sunscreen in her hand was probably important.

She dug around in her bag until she had it and didn't hesitate to untie the halter strings of Rachel's bikini. "Quinn! A little warning!" Rachel laughed as she covered herself up.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that." Quinn said in a false voice of apology. Rachel laughed again and nudged her wife with her elbow.

Applying sunscreen was the perfect ploy for some light groping. And when Quinn was done drawling out the whole ordeal, it was Rachel's turn to get touchy feely. "My apologies, Quinn. I was unaware that you were so ticklish."

Quinn chuckled and leaned back against Rachel's body as they both sat in the hot sun. "You're such a liar."

"I had no clue."

"Lies."

"Not the slightest idea I was tickling you throughout my proceedings."

"Hmmm."

Quinn only got up out of Rachel's chair once she heard the diva's light snoring. She busied herself with reading different scripts some of the guys Rachel had worked with in _Which of You, I Loved _and _A Date A Month _were interested in.

"Wanna cool off in the ocean?" Quinn removed her earbuds as she saw Rachel awake beside her.

"Sure." As Quinn put the pile of scripts and her iPod away, Rachel slowly got out of her chair with a stretch.

"I bet I can beat you to the water." Rachel kicked up sand as she sprinted to the water and Quinn was fumbling to catch up. Just as Rachel was at the water's edge, Quinn snatched her wife out of midair and held her against her body.

"Not a chance." Quinn growled out in Rachel's ear as she walked them into the freezing water.

"Ahhh! Quinn! Stop, it's cold!"

"Hold still, superstar." Quinn laughed, allowing the light spray to wash over both of them. Until she was just holding Rachel. "How was it for you in high school? Honestly? How hard. And I mean everything from before glee club to those last few months."

Rachel leaned back and rested her head on Quinn's shoulder as her wife's arms held her close. Waves lightly lapped against them as they stood there and Rachel sighed heavily. "I was in constant pain." Rachel began. She explained everything. She didn't spare Quinn's feelings when she discussed being bullied or how difficult it was to keep everything from her fathers. She talked about how hard it was to be so alone. How she was the outcast in a group of outcasts.

The subject of Finn flowed freely. How he was really the first person that was nice to her, placated her, even though he was so popular. It was easy enough for Rachel to just go with it. She had been starving for someone who treated her like she was special. Finn had been easy.

"I honestly believed that if I just kept putting myself out there that eventually he'd really love me back. That if I kept trying to prove myself…" Rachel went quiet. It was getting dark out. Quinn rested her chin on Rachel's head and held her closer.

_She kept putting herself out there for Finn and she got hurt…Then there's Shelby. Everyone in high school. _

Quinn sighed deeply and held Rachel closer. "I'm not going to do that, you know?" She whispered. "This…you don't have to prove anything to me."

Rachel nodded quietly and closed her eyes. She thought of all the pain she had endured. Everything from the ridicule she had received as a child of two gay dads, everything that happened in high school, the way she had foolishly chased after Finn, thinking that _he _had been the only person really there for her. How she had lost friends she didn't even know she had because of him. How dejected she had felt—and still feels—over Shelby. Even the pain that Quinn had caused by pretending.

But there, in Quinn's arms as they stood in the ocean, watching the sun sink further, she felt the pain ebb. "I know." She whispered.

Despite what the girl holding her thought, Rachel knew that Quinn needed someone to hold her as well. She felt like she was really ready to start doing that—being there for Quinn, holding _her _up for a change. Proving her feelings. She didn't want to be the fool she was in high school anymore, but with Quinn, she knew it was different.

X

The days flew. Each morning they'd awake in each other's arms and get ready for breakfast in the restaurant. They'd feed each other fruit and talk about their pasts. _Really _talk about them.

Quinn allowed Rachel to ask whatever she wanted. Nothing was off limits, and Rachel reveled in the fact. She suddenly felt hungry to know every last detail about the mysterious girl she had married.

They were barely aware of anyone who lingered about during their meals, too busy sitting closely, side by side, as divulged their secrets. Their days were spent on the beach. They didn't even bother snorkeling or parasailing or taking a boat tour. They were too consumed with getting to know one another.

They knew that once they got back to New York, again they'd be immersed in their lives. Tony nominations were approaching, so Rachel would be at every show, giving it her all. Quinn had a client list now and she didn't want to ignore her business.

Nights were spent very much like their days. They'd sit in the hotel restaurant long after their food was finished, talking about future topics.

"It will be a big change."

"I'm ready!"

"It's going to be an _expensive _change."

"I know, I know!"

"And your fathers aren't going to be paying rent anymore now that we're married."

"Yes, that's all fine and good and everything. I _really _want a new place!"

"I think it's best if we sit on this idea for a while."

"But _Quiiin_, won't it be exciting picking out a new place together? I promise I'll pick up all my towels and wash the dishes and do the laundry!"

Quinn smiled as flashes of her future passed before her. Next it will be a pet. Then…well, they had a long time before thoughts like _those_ became relevant. "We should buy not rent."

"Yay!" Rachel cheered and clapped, excited at the prospect of getting a place that was _theirs_.

"When we get back I'll go over finances with Ainsley. We're just looking though, so don't get all excited. We'll have school to pay for, as well, so don't get ahead of yourself."

Rachel tugged on her lower lip as she smiled across the table at her wife. Quinn's eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she smiled back. Dinners were Rachel's favorite time of day with Quinn. They always got dressed up—for one another, the unspoken rule—and tonight, Rachel was wearing an off-the-shoulder dark pink dress that clung to her in a way she knew Quinn appreciated.

Her hair was in a tight bun at the nap of her neck and, occasionally, Quinn would reach out and twirl a piece of the hair as they smiled at one another. "You look beautiful this evening, by the way." Rachel said quietly before looking up at Quinn through her eyelashes.

"It's our last night, I wanted to make it count." Rachel nodded in agreement as she took in Quinn. Her wife wore a near-nude, strapless dress that flared subtly down to her knees. Rachel knew Quinn wasn't wearing a bra, either, so every time Rachel's eyes dropped down to Quinn's chest, she'd lick her lips.

"What did you want to do tonight?" Quinn asked as she sipped on her glass of wine. Each night she only had two. It felt nice to be able to drink in Rachel's presence without fearing she'd spill some huge secret.

"Let's do something different tonight. Let's go to that bar."

"_That _bar? Rachel there are dozens on the island."

Rachel shrugged and sipped her wine as well as her eyes scanned the empty restaurant.

"I'll take that as a sign you have a specific bar in mind and it most likely has karaoke." Rachel immediately beamed as her excited eyes turned back to her wife's.

"Won't it be so much fun?" Quinn laughed lightly as she rested her palm against her cheek. While their days at the beach had been Quinn's favorite part, she did love their nightly walks as they talked in the moonlight. She supposed they could do that after the bar.

"It does. Do you want to change before we go?" Rachel shook her head. The room was something they both avoided if they could help it. Once they were behind closed doors the tension always mounted to a fever pitch. The prier evening, Rachel requested that they run lines for _A Wink and a Nod_ so she wouldn't get "rusty with Tony season upon me."

Everything was going just fine until they got to the scene where Rachel's character and her male lead made love. They both stood there, Rachel biting her lip while Quinn moved hers back and forth awkwardly, before they wordlessly put their scripts down and headed for their nightly walk on the beach.

With a few glasses of wine in them and a hotel room to themselves, it didn't invoke much imagination as to what would come next—read: _them. _It would be much safer if they just went directly to the bar.

_Although, it would be wonderful to explore…_that_. _

_It's not like we haven't done much exploring in the past few days. _

_Quinn smirking as she held our bikini top up, softly cupping our breasts in a ruse to keep us from exposing us hardly counts. _

_It felt like it counted to me. _

_We owe her for that. _

_You mean you want us to thank her for rescuing our bathing suit top before it swam away after that particularly huge wave? _

_No. _

_Nice. _

They walked hand in hand to the close bar quietly as the sound of waves crashed down on the beach. They were both silently thinking how sad they were to leave. Returning to the real world and their schedules was daunting. And also there was the fact that a lot had happened since New York. They both thought a lot about it, as a matter of fact.

Would things regress? Would they be able to still grow even through their busy schedules? How would they find time for one another? Everything was so delicate but moving forward. Neither wanted to shatter that.

Rach held the door open for Quinn with a smile as they stepped into the near-empty bar. As the door slammed shut behind Rachel, they were immediately hit with the tell-tale signs of karaoke: terrible singing.

On stage was a young guy, probably around Rachel and Quinn's age, crooning to Barry Manilow. Seated right in front of the stage, were four rather rowdy guys cheering him on. "Oh wow. Maybe we should go somewhere else." Quinn said as she eyed the guys.

"Nonsense. Everywhere else will most likely be crowded and my voice hasn't really got practice since Lima."

"Rach, you sing every day."

"That's different." Rachel dismissed. What she really meant was that she hadn't performed since Lima. The girl loved her stage.

Rachel and Quinn made their way to the bar where a young girl was drying a mug. "What can I get ya?" She asked politely, her island accent pronounced.

"Wine?" Quinn asked Rachel with a shrug. Rachel shrugged back, not really caring, when she suddenly felt the presence of someone else beside her.

"No. Way."

Both girls jerked their heads to the voice and were greeted by the guy who was just up on stage. He was staring at both girls with wide eyed and his mouth hanging open. "No. Way!" He repeated with a smile as he pointed them. "You're the girl from those movies!"

Rachel immediately blushed but stood a little straighter. "Indeed I am. Rachel Berry, pleased to meet you." The boy ignored her hand, too busy jumping up and down.

"Guys! Guys, _this _is that chick from those movies!" He told his friends. The group of boys got up to approach, not really comprehending. Barry Manilow turned back to Rachel. "My girlfriend took me to see that one where you go on all those dates. That movie was awesome!"

Quinn smiled and pulled Rachel closer to her, pleased that her wife had a moment in the sun but suddenly very protective with so many young guys around. "I appreciate you saying so."

"Oooohhh wait a minute!" Another boy shouted, suddenly very excited. "You're the lesbian!" Quinn sucked her teeth while Rachel only faltered momentarily.

"Yes, that's true, as well."

"My sister is in _love _with you!" Quinn's eyebrow shot up as her eyes narrowed. She pressed Rachel even closer to her.

"Well…that's…thank you." Rachel replied, delighted.

"She saw both of your movies, like, five times each and is saving up to go see you on Broadway. You _have _to get a picture with me! Oh, no! Better yet, can you call her? She'd lose her mind! She's so excited for your wedding special!"

Rachel and Quinn shared smiles before Rachel was nodding. "I would love to call your sister."

It turned out that the boys thought wine was lame. Soon, a row of shots were sitting on the bar. A few more people ambled in for karaoke, but once all the boys found out that both girls could sign, they had reserved the mike for them.

Although only one of the boys made a comment: "You two are smoking hot together. What I wouldn't give to-" "Dude! My sister likes chicks, shut the fuck up!" Quinn still kept Rachel _very _close.

But the shots kept on coming. Tequila, vodka, rum, whisky. And then it was time to sing. It didn't take much prodding from Rachel to get Quinn on stage, and soon they girls were singing drunkenly for the group of boys and the growing audience once word got out.

Originally, Rachel wanted to wow her audience with soul-expressing songs that hit all of her ranges. But once she got on stage with Quinn, it became a round robin of classics like _Hey, Mickey, _the perfect Island song _Escape_, _Dance with Somebody, Summer Girls, _and last but not least, Meatloaf's _Paradise by the Dashboard Light_. _That _was actually Quinn's call. But they sang to each other and laughed and played their parts very well.

At the end of _Paradise, _both girls bowed for the now packed house and held hands as they laughed themselves off the stage. "I can't believe you picked _that_!" Rachel screeched as they made their way to the bar. "That _cringe-worthy _duet!"

"I thought it was an awful lot of fun. _You're _just jealous cause I got to be the girl!" Rachel giggled as Quinn placed her hands on her hips and appeared proud of herself.

"Well my vocal range would have been better suited." Rachel said straight-faced as she flipped her long hair over her shoulder—it had fallen out of its bun somewhere around _Dance with Somebody_.

"Please, I make smokey look easy." Quinn replied as she lowered her forehead to Rachel's. They grinned at one another as one of the boys they made friends with took the stage. _My Body _started to play and slowly their smiles gave way to heavier breathing.

"Thank you for saying yes to this tonight. I know how much you love our night time strolls." Rachel whispered as her gaze dropped to Quinn's lips.

"I love hearing you sing." Quinn stated, her gaze on Rachel's lips as well.

"Is that why you come to all of my shows and most of my practices?" She asked with only a hint of playfulness. They were standing so close, the music was atmospheric, and they were both out of breath, sweaty, and drunk.

"I just like being near you." Quinn confessed quietly. The mood sobered even more as they just stared at one another.

"We could take our walk now." Rachel suggested quietly. Quinn only nodded, too busy watching as Rachel licked her lips.

Instead of walking, however, they found themselves on the beach, Rachel holding Quinn against her chest as they sat, staring out at the ocean. "I don't want to leave." Quinn mumbled.

Rachel placed her chin on Quinn's shoulder as she closed her eyes. "Me either." The sounds of karaoke were faint, but Rachel felt as though the music was pounding like her heart. She softly skimmed her nose against the expanse of Quinn's neck before placing a soft kiss to the pale skin.

"Mmmm." Quinn moaned softly and tilted her head. She felt the ever-present clench between her thighs at the contact and licked her lips as her eyes slid closed.

"Feel good?" Rachel asked softly before she kissed Quinn's neck again. Quinn could only nod in response. Rachel's lips were softly placing kisses up and down her neck.

"More." Quinn choked out quietly.

"Yes." Rachel hissed back in a breath as she parted her lips slightly. Quinn arms snaked behind Rachel's head to keep her in place as her wife slowly sucked on her neck. Quinn moaned again and the sound spurred Rachel on. The hand that had laid dormant on Quinn's waist moved barely a centimeter higher and Quinn groaned loudly as she nodded her head.

Rachel swallowed and changed positions, now kissing the other side of Quinn's neck as her palm skirted up towards Quinn's breasts. "More?" Rachel asked before kisses. Quinn nodded silently again, her whole body inflamed, as she felt Rachel's hands cup her breasts over her dress.

"More, Rach." Quinn released in a strangled cry, Rachel's teeth sinking into the skin of her neck. Now Rachel only nodded, her hands slipping into the top of Quinn's dress until she was cupping the bare breasts firmly.

"Okay?" Rachel asked, her voice throaty, as she massaged the breasts in her hands. Quinn only moaned in response. Rachel's fingertips glided down until she was pinching Quinn's nipples lightly.

"_Fuu ck_." Quinn got out as she bit her lip. Her body was squirming and she bent her knee as her toes dug into the sand. Rachel's mouth was relentless as she massaged Quinn's breasts and rolled her nipples.

"Go back to the room?" Rachel barely got out. She was soaking wet. Quinn's skin tasted even better than it looked. Feeling Quinn made her throb everywhere. Her hard nipples against the fabric of her dress, pressed up against Quinn's back was hardly enough.

Quinn dropped her head down to her chest, the best nod she could give under the circumstances. But Rachel understood. The diva popped up from the sand and went to take off towards their room in anticipation before Quinn's hand on her wrist stopped her.

Their lips were moving feverously against one another's and Quinn took great relief in the feel of Rachel's tongue brushing against her own. Her hands raced over Rachel's body and the throbbing pulsed stronger when she heard her wife moan.

The stumbled back to their room through their kisses, Quinn fumbling with the key to their beach-entrance doors as fast as she could as Rachel kissed her neck. They exploded into the room and where kissing again as they collapsed onto the bed.

They were drunk. But they didn't care. They just wanted some part of the other. "Should I retrieve the toys?" Rachel mumbled as she sucked on Quinn's earlobe.

"What?" Quinn asked, a little confused by the question. Her hands were full of Rachel's ass. She knew no words. "Oh. No." She shook off. "Why? Do you want them?" She asked softly, her head stretching back against the middle of the bed as Rachel sucked harder on her skin.

"I'm not sure." Rachel answered back. Suddenly Rachel was on her back.

"We don't need them." Quinn's tongue was delving into Rachel's mouth, removing the line of questioning. Rachel sucked on Quinn's tongue, just how her wife liked, and Quinn moaned even louder. But then she pulled away. "Wait right here, I have something." Quinn trailed off, already hopping off the bed.

"Okay." She answered quickly, already rearranging her disheveled dress to look more appropriate. Quinn grabbed her bag and took it into the bathroom with her so she could change into the lingerie she had been hoping she could model for Rachel.

"Be right there!" Quinn shouted. She heard a soft "Okay," and ripped off her dress. "You're fine." Quinn told her reflection as she reapplied her makeup as quickly as possible.

_You're not fine_.

"I'm fine." Quinn repeated.

_You are not. _

"I'm not nauseated."

_Are too_, her inner voice sang back.

Quinn gripped the sink tightly and glared at herself in the mirror. "Listen up! We haven't had sex in FOUR YEARS! We're doing this whether we feel sick or not!" Suddenly Quinn's hand flew to her mouth. "_Fuck, fuck fuck, shit-"_ But that's all she got out…well…that's all the _words _she got out before she was heaving over the toilet.

After a few minutes, Quinn's head collapsed down onto the toilet seat. "I'll be out in a minute!" She called out, still fully prepared to go along with this. "Just need to brush my teeth and wash my face." She mumbled to herself miserably. But she mustered up all her strength and quickly got changed. She wasn't looking so hot but she didn't want to waste more time re-reapplying her makeup.

She took a deep breath and flicked her hair before turning the doorknob. "Rach?" Quinn asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"Turn around."


	17. Chapter 17 Pretty Woman

Chapter Seventeen: Pretty Woman

"Winston! Denise! We were hoping to catch you both unattended!"

"Tanner, pleasure to see you and Marina again! What brings you to the fundraiser? Donating lots of money to the Children's Hospital, I hope?"

Tanner laughed good-naturedly and tapped his breast pocket. "Brought my checkbook."

Denise winked at Winston, glad that the event was turning out to be such a success for her husband, before grasping the ends of Marina's silk scarf. "Marina, this is just beautiful. Wherever did you get it?" While Marina filled Denise in, Tanner scooted closer to Winston.

"I have to admit, donating money to the Children's Hospital isn't the _only _reason I'm here."

Winston laughed openly before sipping his brandy. "Truth be told, we don't host these events _just _to take money from very rich people like yourself, Tanner. It's all about networking. With whom do you hope to speak with tonight?"

Tanner only smiled. "You won't get it from me that easily, Winston. If I didn't tell you on the back nine, I _won't_ be telling you after only one scotch."

The two wives overheard the exchange and shared an eye roll. "Please, Tanner," Marina said to her husband with playful exasperation. "Everyone knows you're courting the Berry girl. It's been on Page Six for the last week."

The group laughed amongst themselves, dressed in their formal-wear-best, with flutes of champagne and tumblers of liquor grasped tightly in their hands. "I didn't know I was being so transparent." Tanner shrugged with a boyish smile.

"Tanner, my friend, you weren't being transparent. I'm just fairly certain everyone here is, indeed, courting Rachel Berry. You'll see over there is Rufus. He's desperate to get her in his play. Juliet is next to him; she's foaming at the mouth to get Berry on one of her network shows. And Cindy's across the room reading to pounce with her newest indie darling tucked tightly underneath her jewel-covered arm."

"I think she also has a Blockbuster she's hoping to give the girl." Denise offered with a wicked grin.

Tanner only shook his head. "It doesn't matter about the competition, folks, because I have them all beat."

"My husband, the optimist." Marina chuckled as she looped her arm with Tanner's.

Winston just laughed before quickly peaking over his shoulder before glancing back at the group. He moved slightly closer as he lowered his voice. "I'm sure your project is _just _the very thing Rachel Berry has been looking for, Tanner. But I wouldn't get your hopes up."

Tanner frowned, making his bushy eyebrows look even thicker. "And why is that?" He asked petulantly. "I can deal with her. After I'm through with my pitch she'll be begging me to get on board." Tanner was known around New York for finding the next big thing. He made millions on it. The idea that Rachel Berry would turn him down only made him want her on the project that much more.

Winston and Denise traded smirks. "Because, my old friend, it's _not _Rachel Berry who makes those sorts of calls." Winston lowered his voice even further. "It's the Pit Bull's. And _she _does _not _like to be 'dealt with.'" As Winston glanced over his shoulder again, the group's eyes followed until they were all looking at a statuesque blonde.

Quinn Fabray was standing beside the bar, tall and imposing, with a floor-length white gown and her hair done-up, tightly curled just under her ears, making her look like old Hollywood realized. A flute of champagne was held aloft at her side and would randomly sparkle against its crystal as it reflected off her magnificent diamond ring, as her smoky hazel eyes searched the large ballroom. She knew very well that the group was talking about her, and she smirked at the thought. Not that she was looking their way. No. She scanned the large ballroom as small groups of New York's elite gathered to talk business and money and it only made her smirk further. The effect was nothing short of unapproachable. She and Rachel had been at the event for a little over two hours and, so far, no one had been brave enough to approach her and her wife. Not like they made it easy for anyone. They were far too caught up in one another to manage small talk.

Tanner Abrams turned back to his party with a less than confident expression. "She's…"

"Beautiful!" His wife filled in for him with wide eyes.

"She's a pit bull. Don't be fooled by her glamour." Winston warned with a cheeky smile. "I heard from Dominic that she single-handedly dismantled Conduit Studios and their plans for her and Berry's wedding."

"Word on the street is that Conduit ended up spending all the money and got none of the footage they wanted!" Denise squealed with pleasure. "Quinn Fabray then negotiated several major deals for her clients, all while making sure that she and her wife reserved more profit off Berry's two films."

Tanner and Marina traded stunned glances. Tanner was led to believe that Berry was an easy target; that she would be hungry for more roles. "Don't look so shocked, my friend." Winston laughed as he clapped Tanner on the back. "Rachel Berry is in the starring role of the Swaines' Broadway smash. The Tony buzz around that thing is so great everyone is already predicting it will win the Big Six. Never mind the fact that the girl is starring in two Sundance hits right now. _Which of You_ is getting Oscar talk—the Berry girl is, at any rate—and their wedding special will be airing soon. I think it's safe to say that Rachel Berry is a hot ticket item. _Especially _how quickly she has risen in fame. Why…only three months ago no one had even heard of her!"

False laughter rung throughout the banquet hall as the small group considered Winston's words. Marina's gaze flitted towards Quinn once more before she closed the gap towards her party. "So I suppose she's the…controllingtype?" She asked with a grimace. Since the beginning of time it was known throughout the industry that when an entertainer is involved with one of their handlers, the handler calls all the shots. Considering that Quinn was Rachel's manager, agent, and publicist, Marina found it hard to believe that Rachel was allowed to do _anything _of her own free will.

To Marina's surprise, however, light, airy laughter tinkered behind her. "_Darling_, the day Quinn Fabray calls the shots in _that _relationship, is the day I give away all my diamonds. And I'm rather fond of my diamonds, aren't I sweetheart?"

"Rather fond, indeed." Ainsley laughed. The group turned abruptly at the sound of Charlene and Ainsley Swain's voices, and quick smiles, air kisses, and handshakes kept the group busy.

"Ainsley, Charlene, a pleasure as always." Winston greeted. "I hope you brought your checkbooks."

"Winston, my boy, always the hooker and never the whore; of course I brought my checkbook. And, may I add," Ainsley grinned as he wrapped his arm around Charlene and winked. "I put quite a few zeros on it."

From across the room, Quinn raised the champagne in her hand in silent salute to Ainsley when their eyes met. He winked back and returned to his party just as Rachel Berry stuffed her phone back into her purse and entered the ballroom. She had just been on the phone with her fathers, outside on the balcony, filling them in about how she had met Neil Patrick Harris and his partner; she knew they'd want a play by play.

For a moment, Rachel paused halfway across the ballroom's dance floor to observe her wife. Rachel was ignorant to the many pairs of eyes on her, just as Quinn was ignorant to Rachel's inspection. She was overwhelmed at the sight of Quinn. She appeared just as she had in high school in all her intimidating and confident glory, without, however, any of the anger that used to follow her around.

Quinn felt Rachel's stare and her head snapped to find her wife's eyes. As couples danced and talked, Quinn and Rachel held one another's gazes between the swarm of bodies until Rachel smiled shyly and ducked her head. When she looked back up, Quinn was returning the smile as she bit her lip.

Charlene Swaine smirked to herself as she watched the exchange. She softly squeezed Rachel's shoulder as she passed by the young star and it was enough to break the spell between Rachel and Quinn.

As Rachel approached, Quinn drank in her wife's movements and openly made her perusal known. She watched the way Rachel's long pink gown moved against the tight body beneath it and felt more than just lust.

"You'll never believe what I just heard." Rachel whispered as she saddled up behind Quinn and wrapped her arms around Quinn's waist to pull the girl back against her. A slow smile spread on Quinn's face as her wife held her. "Hmmm?" Quinn hummed as she passed the flute of champagne behind her for Rachel to take, before lacing their fingers together against her stomach.

Rachel took a generous sip and set it down behind her on the bar as she stood on tiptoes to whisper in Quinn's ear. "Rachel Berry's here" Rachel said, making Quinn chuckle softly. She tenderly nuzzled her nose against Quinn's ear as her voice dropped. "…And she isn't wearing underwear."

Quinn ducked her head to hide her smirk from the party around her. She was certain that if anyone were looking they'd be able to read the desire in her expression quite clearly. "Is that right?" Quinn whispered back in a low purr.

Rachel released Quinn's hands from her own and trailed her fingers down her wife's arms. "Off the record?"

"Of course." Quinn replied with a slight grin as her eyebrow rose at her wife's teasing.

With a soft brush of her lips against Quinn's bare shoulder, Rachel murmured, "I can confirm that this rumor is one hundred percent true." Before placing another kiss on her wife's skin.

As Quinn lifted her head, she did her best to school her smirk so that it wasn't so obvious so those around her. She tilted her head back slightly so her lips were centimeters away from Rachel's. Their eyes met with a seriousness that can only come from wanting, and Quinn licked her lips as she saw her desire reflected back in the gaze. In a breath she whispered, "_Prove_ _it_."

X

_Two Days Earlier…_

Both Quinn and Rachel wore similar expressions and hid their ire behind their sunglasses as the ignored the flight attendant at the front of the aisle who pointed out the exits. Rachel's full lips were firmly in a pout while her wife merely scowled as her jaw clenched repeatedly.

They were on their way back to New York; the honeymoon was over.

And it never even began.

_Not that I'm surprised. _

_This whole relationship has strayed from the conventional. It would be far too easy if we got to make love on our freaking HONEYMOON! _

Quinn sighed loudly for, perhaps, the millionth time since they had left the hotel. But it wasn't a sigh of discontentment or irritation that their trip was over and it was back to the real world. No. It was because she was horny as hell. It was because when she had stood next to the bed the previous night, waiting for Rachel to roll over and soak in the sight of _the _Quinn Fabray in all her lingerie glory, the sounds of snoring soon filled the room. Rachel had passed out.

Not that Quinn hadn't tried to wake her. Oh no. She had. Rachel finally woke after Quinn gave up on the soft kisses and sweet whispers and shoved her shoulder with intent. Rachel had rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly. She couldn't really see in the dark room, but she knew that Quinn was beside her in the bed and smiled in her sleepy state. "Hey, wifey." Rachel mumbled as she shifted closer to Quinn. She went to kiss her wife, still half asleep, but suddenly aware of why she had been roused; it was time for the sex! But Quinn had turned her head to deflect the kiss. "Are you cross with me for falling asleep?" Rachel asked through a yawn.

"No." Quinn had whispered back as she moved in the darkness to find Rachel's neck—she was a _little _cross, but she could overlook that because it was time for all the sex. Rachel loved the attention Quinn had shown her skin. The way her pale hands had ran over Rachel's body as each lick and tug of tanned flesh was sucked between Quinn's lips.

But when Rachel pulled Quinn on top of her, something immediately seemed off. Things were getting steamy. They were moving together much like they had at the strip club, yet… "Quinn, sweetheart?" Rachel had asked in between gasps of air as Quinn's lips followed the progress of the strap of Rachel's dress as she pushed it off her wife's shoulder.

"Hmm?" Quinn hummed back, _really _ready to get Rachel out of her clothes.

Rachel caught Quinn's chin with her fingers and directed her wife back up. Just as their lips were about to brush, however, Quinn pulled away and sought out Rachel's earlobe. That was the last straw. "Why, may I ask, aren't you allowing me to kiss you?"

All efforts of consummating their marriage ended there once Quinn reveled that she had gotten sick and—even thought she had brushed her teeth twice—didn't want Rachel to kiss her. Then Rachel had shot back that she didn't want things to continue if kissing was off the table. Then Quinn fought back, irritated, that Rachel had fallen asleep at all. She was pretty sure that the suggestive tone she had used should have peeked Rachel's interest enough that she could have remained awake for ten lousy minutes! Rachel attacked next, stating that if Quinn had been so drunk they shouldn't have started things to begin with!

On and on, back and forth, until Quinn was bent over the toilet once again. Between groans, Quinn mumbled miserably about "frustration" as Rachel nodded her understanding and agreement and held Quinn's hair back and dabbed her forehead with a cool, wet towel. They had both passed out in the bathroom once the vomiting was over, tangled together in exhaustion.

Their early morning flight arrived far too soon and they were both running a little late. It hadn't stopped Quinn from trying once again to seduce her wife. She was only able to remove Rachel's top, however, when Rachel finally called the whole thing off after Quinn had said, "Just give me _five _minutes and then we can go." And maybe if the bellhop hadn't been banging on the door Rachel may have relented. But his broken English and persistent knocking were far too much of a distraction for Rachel. So she quickly stuffed her top back on and rushed to answer the door, ignoring Quinn's loud scream of frustration she had shouted face down into the bed.

It stands to reason that it was a mostly silent trip back to New York.

Once the plane landed and they turned their cell phones back on, the real world it them along with a wall of humidity. They had school assignments to turn in, Rachel was due at the theater soon for her return to the stage, and Quinn needed to meet with the producer of the movie she wanted Jesse to star in and also run down everything business related with Lydia and Jeremy. Yes, the honeymoon was over.

The girls were greeted by Lydia, Jesse, and Jeremy once they stepped out of LaGuardia. Jesse was standing outside a taxi as he glanced around the bustling airport and Lydia and Jeremy waited within a second cab. "I'll see at the theater?" Rachel asked anxiously, moving her carry-on bag back and forth between her hands as she stared down at her shoes. She felt mass amounts of guilt. They had wasted five days playing coy. They had wasted what could have been an incredibly romantic first time together. They just had wasted so much time. And while there would still be plenty of opportunities, Rachel didn't want Quinn to be upset with her. Things had been going so well.

Quinn had read the uncertainty in Rachel's voice and blew out a breath, trying to calm herself. She wasn't mad at Rachel. She was just disappointed. And horny. She was very, very horny. Just being near Rachel was making her body temperature skyrocket. And, Quinn had to amend that it was sweet of Rachel to suggest on the plane that they could always join the Mile High Club. But Quinn only chuckled and shook her head as she blushed. Their first time shouldn't' be in an airplane bathroom. No, there would be plenty of time. Not that she hadn't considered sex on the plane.

She had.

Thoroughly.

For hours.

"You'll see me at the theater. I wouldn't miss it." Quinn whispered as hundreds of commuters breezed by them at their curbside goodbye. Rachel was still inspecting her fumbling hands and Quinn moved closer to her wife. "I'm not upset." She whispered as she wrapped her arms around Rachel. "And I'll be front and center tonight for your show."

Rachel nuzzled into Quinn's neck and breathed a sigh of relief. Her head was so full right then. She was nervous to be back on stage considering how important each show would be until the Tony nominations came out. The thought of Quinn not being there brought flashbacks of _A Sweetness _and the days she and Quinn weren't speaking.

"I'm sorry." Rachel whispered as her eyes welled with tears.

Quinn repeatedly kissed Rachel's hair as she held her. "You should be." Rachel's head jerked up and Quinn merely laughed before shaking her head. "I'm kidding, Rach." As Quinn went on about how they had plenty of time and it hadn't been Rachel's fault, Jesse St. James rolled his eyes and pulled out his cell.

_They still haven't done it. _Jesse pressed send and a moment later Lydia's phone went off in the back of her taxi.

"Jesus fuckface Christ." She cursed through a mumble. She showed the text to Jeremy and the boy smiled, both ignoring the cab driver who shot them looks of anger as his scriptures played loudly on the radio.

"That means that the bet is still on. Sorry, Lyd." Jeremy laughed softly.

_Whatever St. James, I still have a shot! _

Jesse smirked when he read her text. Their bet was simple. If Rachel and Quinn slept together on a Monday, Wednesday, or Sunday, Jeremy won the bet. Jesse had Tuesdays and Thursdays and Lydia had Fridays and Saturdays. Their logic was that Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays were the most likely considering the girls' work schedules, so it would be fair for each of them. The honeymoon had worried the boys, but somehow Quinn and Rachel had managed to be the only couple in existence that went sexless on their honeymoon, so Lydia hadn't won. Jesse tucked his phone away with a grin. It was Tuesday. He'd just have to give Rachel a little pep talk on the way to the theater.

The bet wasn't _necessarily _just about sex. No, the trio just assumed that when and if Quinn and Rachel _finally _slept together, it would be an affirmation of their feelings. That was what it was really all about. Well…to Jeremy anyway. Lydia and Jesse were just completely baffled over why the two girls hadn't slept together and were bored with their lack of sex. They were tired of Quinn and Rachel's bad moods and were hoping a little loving would solve that problem.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" Quinn promised as she cupped Rachel's face. Rachel nodded as she stared up at Quinn. "What's wrong?" She asked as she brushed away Rachel hair.

"I don't want to leave you." Rachel mumbled as she glanced down bashfully. Quinn felt similar. She was scared that all their progress would be forgotten once their busy lives started up again. It was one of the reasons she was planning on taking her business to the next level; step away from the actual dog walking and only deal with the business aspects. She wasn't pleased with the idea, but she wanted to focus her attention on being an agent, manager, and publicist and would do whatever to spend more time with Rachel; they were the two things Quinn was passionate about. Everything else would just have to take a backseat.

Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel and whispered, "I'll be there soon. I just have to email our professors all our work, run over some things with Lyd and Jer, and call the producers about Jesse's movie deal. I'll be there as soon as I can. Before curtain goes up."

Rachel nodded slowly before looking back up at Quinn. "Okay. Do you think you'll be too tired to spend time with me tonight?" Rachel asked with big brown eyes.

Quinn ducked her head into the crook her Rachel's shoulder. "I think I can find the time." She breathed out against Rachel's skin, smirking as she did so. Quinn bit her lip as she held her breath, envisioning their night together.

"Come back stage beforehand, okay?"

Quinn began sucking on Rachel's neck as she nodded, her hands kneading her wife's hips as her arousal escalated. "Won't you need time to focus?" Quinn asked as she continued to stroke Rachel's neck with her tongue. Visions of her doing very dirty things to Rachel in the dressing room filled her head as she felt Rachel run her hands up and down her back.

"It should be fine." Rachel groaned. But already she felt her concentration slipping as Quinn continued her attack.

"Oh, Jesus." Lydia mumbled as she rolled her eyes from her cab. The show was getting a little ridiculous and since it wasn't one of her bet days, she really could do without the groping demonstration.

Rachel cupped the back of Quinn's neck as her eyes widened before slamming shut at Quinn's ministrations. "I can't wait to see you back on stage." Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear before tugging on the lobe.

"Mmmm?"

"Yeah," Quinn breathed out as she moved her mouth directly beside Rachel's ear. "Watching you on stage…" Rachel's knees started to shake and she carved her nails down Quinn's back in reaction. "_Really _turns me on."

Rachel whimpered before forcefully prying herself away from her wife. She couldn't handle this right now. She needed to start focusing on that night's performance. It felt like forever since she had been on stage and she was fairly certain that the _only _thing that would distract her would be Quinn Fabray. "Okay," Rachel blew out a breath and cleared her throat. "I really need to get to the theatre."

Quinn's eyebrow quirked as she watched her wife try and mask her arousal. "Whatever you say, superstar. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Rachel nodded as she ran her fingers through her hair, still trying to keep her body from throwing Quinn atop any available surface to ravish her. "Tonight." She repeated.

"Tonight." Quinn purred back before softly brushing her lips against Rachel's. With one more peck, Quinn was sweeping away from the curb. "Meet me in an hour, St. James." Quinn directed as she slid her sunglasses on.

Jesse grinned as Quinn passed him. "Yes, _Mrs_. Fabray." He mumbled. Once Quinn was in the back of her cab next to Jeremy and Lydia, Jesse moved forward to grab Rachel's bags. He placed a quick kiss on her head before throwing her things in the trunk of the taxi. "And how was the honeymoon?" He asked as Rachel buckled herself in and slipped her sunglasses on as well.

"Just fine." She answered, looking out the window as the taxi started to move, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

"Hmmhmm. Sexless I presume?" He smirked when she huffed and crossed her arms. "I find you both absurdly tedious and utterly incorrigible."

Quinn taxi ride wasn't any better, however, that was mostly due in part that she was constantly on her phone. She was yelling at people left and right as Jeremy and Lydia sat beside her playing Fist, Mask, Slippers; Rachel had taught them her version of Rock, Paper, Scissors and they liked it much better.

As Rachel stretched and warmed up at the theatre, Quinn took care of her business. She spoke on her Bluetooth as she unpacked her and Rachel's trip clothes and straightened up the apartment. She made errant notes in her scheduler and she cooked Rachel a snack. She yelled at some more people as she rushed over to Broadway forty-five minutes before curtain. It had been a productive day. Suddenly, for some reason it seemed, _everyone _in New York City wanted Quinn to walk their dogs. But that wasn't her biggest concern.

Quinn's growing client roster was slightly daunting. Rachel and Jesse were squared away for the moment; both were in successful Broadway shows and she had just closed a deal for Jesse to co-star in a war film musical. Her boys, as she and Rachel affectionately called them, were all on the West Coast working with Conduit Studios on their future film careers. Matt Rutherford was currently putting the finishing touches of his next script that already had the Green Light. The other guys that had worked on _Which of You, I Love _and _A Date a Month _were busy with their own projects, too. Soon, Quinn would be required to fly to L.A. to sign off on everything; a trip she was dreading because she didn't want to spend time away from Rachel. But she'd worry about that later. Her main problem was becoming the glee kids. They would take some serious pandering. Again, she'd worry about that later. Like Thursday at the fundraiser.

"Mrs. Fabray, you're looking beautiful this evening." Quinn smiled at Paul, one of the backstage security men. "And how was your honeymoon. I see you're just as pale as you were before you left. I'll assume that means it was a lovely time?" He asked with a cheeky smile.

Quinn rolled her eyes playfully at his not so subtle comment. "It was a lovely trip thank you, Paul." Quinn didn't feel the need to add that she and Rachel just share the same passion for avoiding the sun. They were both _adamant _that you need to reapply sunscreen every half hour on the half hour to make damn sure to evade aging, sun damage, and freckles. Quinn made a fortune in favors in high school selling her tanning privileges to the other Cheerios. Usually Santana.

"You know, Mrs. Fabray." Paul said just as Quinn was moving to Rachel's dressing room. She paused and turned with a head tilt as she waited for him to finish. "I've been working in the theatre for over thirty years. I've seen a lot of acts walk across that stage and a lot of spouses, boyfriends, and girlfriends fill up those seats." Quinn narrowed her eyes, uncertain where the older man was going with his speech. "But I have _never _seen a significant other attend every single show before. Never mind that you're here for her practices."

Quinn switched the bouquet of lilies to her left arm. She was suddenly nervous. Was she at the theatre too often? Was she being overbearing? Was it really necessary to attend _every_ performance? But then it occurred to her. She simply smiled and shrugged because it was just _that_ simple. "I love watching her sing. I always have."

Paul smiled back with a chuckle. "I reckon you would. And I didn't mean anything by it. It just makes me wonder how two people could love each other so damn much. Because, Mrs. Fabray, and I hope you don't mind me saying so, but that girl sings only for you. You can tell because she's always looking at you right before she sings her little heart out."

Quinn smiled and nodded before she gave Paul a wave and headed to Rachel's dressing room; mulling the new knowledge over again in her head happily. She had never noticed.

With two loud raps on Rachel's dressing room door, Quinn entered quickly to find her wife pacing back and forth as she shook out her limbs and mumbled her lines. When she saw Quinn—and the bouquet of flowers in her wife's arms—Rachel beamed before bounding forward to throw herself against Quinn.

"You should have." Rachel whispered before kissing her wife quickly.

"I believe the sentiment is, 'you _shouldn't _have.'"

Rachel peered up at Quinn with big brown eyes as she shook her head in confusion. "No, you _should _have. I'm your wife, this is my first performance back, and it's the required thing to do for a star like me."

Quinn stared at Rachel with a quirked brow before she rolled her eyes. "How are you feeling?" She asked with an affectionate smile.

Rachel moved away from Quinn in favor of finishing her makeup. "I'm ready. I'm _beyond _ready. I don't know what it is, but I have all of this energy! More so than usual. Perhaps it's because I've been away from the stage for so long, but I feel…amped! I can't explain it!" Rachel said as she moved her hands with enthusiasm.

Quinn nodded. _It's called sexual frustration._ But she didn't dare say that. She was pretty sure it was the reason she got so much work done over the course of the day. It's was probably the reason both she and Rachel weren't dead on their feet, jet-lagged to the max, and passed out. And it was probably the reason Rachel was about to put on the best performance of her short career thus far.

But at that moment, Rachel was just humming the chorus to her opening number as Quinn sat behind her in Rachel's cream couch, one leg crossed over the other, watching as her wife applied mass amounts of blush to her tanned cheeks. There was just under a half hour until curtain. Quinn quietly mused if a half hour was enough time to start something sexy. Being with Rachel, alone, in the small dressing room made the air thick with tension.

Rachel kept humming and Quinn picked up a trade magazine and started to flip through it to refrain from jumping her wife. No, a half hour was _not _enough time, Quinn thought with a frown as she idly turned the pages rather harshly.

Rachel watched her wife in the mirror before placing down her makeup and slowly turning. Quinn looked so hot, just sitting there reading. Aloof and sexy. Rachel gripped the armrests of her chair to keep from leaping onto Quinn. Instead, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves before clearing her throat. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?" Quinn hummed without looking up. She couldn't look at Rachel that moment or their first time would happen right then, up against Rachel's vanity, with Rachel's legs spread wide and Quinn's fingers buried. There would be a big article in the paper the next morning over Rachel Berry missing her curtain call because her wife wouldn't let her leave the dressing room in favor of ravishing her. Quinn gulped at the flurry of images as she flipped through a few more pages in the magazine, crossing and uncrossing her legs as she did so, with her foot shaking rapidly.

"Tonight…I was thinking…" Quinn glanced up to see Rachel biting her lip and looking nervous. She raised her eyebrow in question and waited for her wife to continue, ignoring how sexy Rachel looked biting her lip with her cheeks flushed.

Rachel spun herself back and forth in her chair as she considered how to continue without somehow licking Quinn's eyebrow. "I was thinking, perhaps tonight…instead of you cooking…we…could…that _I _could…maybe…that we…"

"Just ask me, Rach." Quinn requested with a wave of her hand and a smile. She was uncertain why Rachel was so nervous. She'd agree to whatever Rachel wanted, she always had, why would that suddenly change?

"We go _out _to dinner instead." Rachel nodded resolutely and clasped her hands in her lap as she waited for Quinn response.

Quinn narrowed her eyes at the question before shrugging. "Sure." She ducked her head and went right back to reading, not at all opposed to a night out. She did, however, really enjoy cooking for Rachel. But if Rachel wanted to go out, they'd go out. Back to _not _thinking about fucking Rachel up against her vanity mirror.

But that wasn't the reaction Rachel was hoping for. "No, you misunderstand." Quinn glanced back up. "I'mgoing to take you _out_ tonight." Rachel tried to convey with her eyes what she meant. The outlook was lost on Quinn.

"_Oohh_." Quinn lied as she nodded her head as though she just caught on. She mimicked Rachel's eager smile. "That sounds perfect." Rachel beamed again before spinning herself back to the mirror to finish her makeup.

Quinn watched for a moment, still puzzled, before she went back to reading.

_Do you know what the hell just happened? _

_No clue. _

_Do you think she meant sex? _

_I guess… "_…_I'm_ _going to take you_ _out tonight_," _sounds sexual. It could be a _Rent _reference. _

_Awesome. Cause this is seriously getting out of hand. _

_Agreed. It cannot be healthy being this horny all day long. _

_And I'm starting to think the reason I've been so dehydrated lately is because I'm…you know…losing water retention _elsewhere_. _

_It could be a health hazard or something. _

While Quinn caught up on the latest industry talk—or trying to and failing as she again thought of taking Rachel up against her vanity—Rachel was still smiling as she applied makeup. She had just successfully asked her wife out on a date. She was very excited. She had already made reservations and picked out her outfit in her head. After the show they'd quickly head back to the apartment, get changed, and start their courtship the right way. Rachel was ignoring the fact that she and Quinn have been living together for almost two years and were married. _This _would be their real beginning. The old-fashioned way. And _not _straddling Quinn on that couch. Rachel sat up straighter in her chair and peeled her gaze away from Quinn as she forced herself to go over their evening plans.

She had everything ready. The flowers were ordered and she'd quickly sneak out to get them beforehand. They'd be dining at the current hottest place that was getting rave reviews and was almost impossible to get a table at. Rachel was ready!

So ready in fact, that when she stepped out on stage all she could do was fix her eyes on where she knew Quinn would be sitting and pour her elation out into each song. Each line. Each dance step. Rachel felt as though everything was finally coming to a head. Their past, although not perfect, had led them to this moment where it all seemed right. She _felt _Quinn's eyes on her. Only Quinn's eyes. She felt her wife's hazel stare as it bore into her everything. She knew that Quinn's eyes were gazing at her with that perfect proud smile on her lips as she rested her cheek against her clasped hands practically breathless with enjoyment. Rachel wished she could actually see Quinn, but the stage lights made that impossible. But she knew. She had seen that look from Quinn every time Rachel took the stage in glee as Quinn watched in the stands. Only this time, this time Rachel knew that Quinn wasn't holding back her pleasure. And for the first time in Rachel Berry's life, she wished she wasn't on stage. Because what she wouldn't give to see Quinn Fabray looking at her like that.

And when Rachel finally snapped her mouth closed as the last note of the last song of the night continued to echo around the large theatre, she knew Quinn would be the first one on her feet, clapping her hands raw. Just like every other night.

Their ride back to the apartment had been quiet. Verbally, at any rate. As the taxi driver's music played loudly, Rachel just stared at Quinn through shy smiles while Quinn stared back in confused amusement. She couldn't understand why Rachel was acting so self-satisfied. Was it because her wife had a big night of wild sex planned? Quinn couldn't be sure.

Nervous she expected.

Quinn was, after all, nervous. Excited nervous, though. She was trying to formulate the night in her head. Would they attack each other once they were behind closed doors? Would they have a glass of wine first and chat? Watch a movie that they wouldn't really watch?

And then it became a question of location. Would their first time be in their bed? A bed they've shared for almost two years? That would be the romantic way. But what if they _did _attack one another as soon as they stepped foot into the apartment? Quinn didn't think she'd be able to make it to the bedroom if that were the case. Was floor sex okay for a first time? She _had_ mopped earlier that day. But the couch was _really _comfortable. She could totally do it there. Rachel would want to shower when she got home. Shower sex as a first time? If her wife kept looking at her like that, Quinn was pretty sure their first time would take place in the back of the taxi.

It didn't help that Rachel just gave the performance of a lifetime. Quinn was awed by the way Rachel had been on stage. She had never seen her wife breathe such a performance before—and that's saying something. It made the anticipation of finally touching Rachel so much greater. Quinn loved that she could so plainly see Rachel's heart when her wife performed.

Nervous, yes. Excited, naturally. But more than all that, Quinn was just very ready to express all of her feeling to Rachel. Which shocked the shit out of Quinn Fabray because she never liked to express anything to anyone. But Rachel was different. Always had been as far as Quinn was concerned. Rachel Berry just always had an uncanny knack for making Quinn emotional.

"Ready?" Rachel asked with a smile as the taxi parked in front of their apartment. Quinn only nodded with a smile, again mirroring her wife. "Keep the change." Rachel explained to the driver before sliding out and taking Quinn's hand.

"Now, I'll take the first shower because I have some things I need to take care of first, if that's all right with you? Then we'll head out and I've already made reservations so we don't need to worry about where we'll go, and then, if we're not too tired, because it's been an awfully long day for the both of us, we'll come back here and have a nice quiet night in. Sound okay?"

Quinn watched as Rachel unlocked their door and nodded unsurely before they walked inside. Rachel noticed Quinn's confused expression and figured it had more to do with the fact that she had mentioned things she needed to take care of. So instead of explaining, Rachel just beamed, kissed Quinn's cheek softly twice, and took off for the shower.

_Soooo…I guess she meant that she's taking us out in the literal sense? _

_Oh. That's…um…_

_It's nice, Quinn. The word you're looking for is _nice_. _

_No, yeah, totally. _

_She's taking us out on a date. _

_Oohhhhh, she's taking us out on a date! I-oh. Wow, she's taking us out on a date. _

_Maybe we should have thought of that…_

_So, we're dating. That's…that's really nice, actually. We're dating now. _

_Try not to grin so broadly, you look kind of creepy. _

_We're dating Rachel! _

_You're also married, but whatever…_

_And she planned the date. She made reservations. She's thought about this. _

_Maybe we should start thinking about things as well. Like, what are we going to wear on this first date? _

_She's trying, you know. She's actually showing effort. She's kind of adorable. _

_So you're not listening anymore…?_

_Oh my, God. What are we going to wear?_

_There she is... _

"Quinn, your turn. And I don't want to pressure you but our reservation is in a half an hour. Dress up!" Quinn barely had time to rake her eyes over Rachel's towel-clad body once before her wife disappeared behind their bedroom door.

Quinn allowed the image of a half-naked Rachel to flit through her mind for only a brief second before she was scrambling towards the shower. She'd be going on her first ever date with Rachel. This was it. Things were really happening!

Rachel quickly pinned her hair back in a side bun before lathering her body with lotion and slipping on her underwear. Next came a simple t-length red dress and black heels. Her makeup was soft and understated, and once that was on, Rachel hightailed it to the flower shop a block away from their apartment. The white gardenias were there waiting for Rachel, and she quickly threw money and a smile at the florist before taking off back to the apartment.

She didn't really need to worry about rushing, however, because Quinn was still shaving her right leg. She hadn't even started on the left. But Quinn was taking her time. She wanted to make sure that she was physically perfect for the evening ahead. Her first date with Rachel. The first time they'd be making love.

Quinn was taking her time. And because of it, they'd be late for their reservation.

"Quinn! Hurry!" Rachel shouted as she paced the length of the apartment.

"Almost done!" Quinn shouted back as she flicked mascara brush over her long lashes carefully. She felt almost ridiculous being so giddy. It wasn't like they were in high school and Rachel had asked her out after the big game. But Quinn liked that Rachel was making a fuss about things. Taking Quinn out on a proper date before they had all the sex.

"Sex, sex, sex, we're having sex tonight." Quinn mumbled her song as she brushed her cheekbones back and forth with blush.

When Quinn emerged from the bathroom, Rachel was nowhere in sight. She quickly flicked through her clothes until she pulled out her green halter dress and tossed it on the bed. "Underwear, underwear, underwear…" Quinn chanted as she stood naked in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips.

_What would look hotter? Thongs, boyshorts, or commando?_

_What bra are you wearing? _

_Either a strapless or I just won't wear one. _

_The dress is pretty clingy, I say either commando or thong. _

_I have to chose, I just can't not wear any underwear at all. It's always more fun to unwrap a present. _

_Your pink strapless bra with the matching thong. _

_I can't wear a light pink bra and panty set with a dark green dress. It's completely opposite in seasonal fashion._

_Fine! Wear the black strapless bra with the matching panties. _

_Don't you think black is a little intense for the first time? _

_Well what the hell are you_ _talking about?_

_No, no, you're right, you're right. _

_For crying out loud…_

Quinn quickly slipped on her chosen underwear before running hair product through her curls to keep them wavy all night. After drying her hair, Quinn slithered into her dark green dress and tied the strings behind her neck and slipped on her low heels.

"Okay, Rach, I'm ready!" Quinn called out as she dabbed lip gloss on gently with a finger. When she didn't get a reply, Quinn stuck her head out of the bedroom door. "Rach?" Quinn slowly entered the living room and glanced around in surprise. "Rach?" She tried again, this time a little louder. When the doorbell went off, Quinn contained her smile only barely with her bottom lip between her teeth. She quickly grabbed her purse and ripped open the door with a smile.

There, holding the bouquet of white gardenias, was her beaming wife, looking mightily pleased with herself. "I know you don't like flowers," Rachel began, still grinning. Quinn leaned against the doorframe as she smirked. "But I wanted tonight to be special and I couldn't help myself."

They stood in silence for a moment just observing one another with soft smiles before Rachel let out a shriek of surprise and dropped the gardenias as her back collided with the hallway wall. Both girls ignored the rustle of the fallen gardenias as Quinn threaded her fingers behind Rachel's neck and Rachel seized Quinn's hips roughly. Their moans bounced through the hallway as Rachel's tongue slid to meet Quinn's.

Rachel's body was completely flat against the wall as Quinn assaulted her. She couldn't help but chuckle into her wife's mouth before nearly collapsing when she felt Quinn's thigh rub against her. "Not so funny now, huh?" Quinn breathed against Rachel's lips smugly.

Rachel's only response was to shake her head and kiss Quinn harder. She raked her hands through Quinn's long hair and tugged her closer in desperation. Everything just felt _so _good.

Mrs. Landry was escorting her dogs down the hallway when she caught sight of her neighbors mauling each other against the hallway wall. She tutted quietly to herself as she urged her dogs forward. She tried to jingle her keys loud enough for the pair to hear, but their moans were probably drowning out the sound. "_Heh hem_." She tried to no avail. They didn't even seem to mind that Hanky Banister was circling their legs trying to get his favorite dog walkers' attention.

Quinn felt Rachel's shaking laughter against her body and pulled away. "What's so funny?" She breathed out as she slid her lips down to her wife's neck. Rachel ducked her head into Quinn's shoulder as she continued to laugh. Quinn glanced down at Rachel's leg and noticed a very enthusiastic Shih Tzu humping her wife's leg.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Quinn scolded with a frown as she shooed the whining dog away. Rachel's head banged against the wall behind her as she continued to laugh openly.

"It's a wonder _anything_ stopped you girls." Mrs. Landry said as she unlocked her door. Rachel slapped her hand over her mouth to hide her laughter at being caught as Quinn ducked her face against Rachel's neck.

"Hello, Mrs. Landry." Both girls drew out in unison—Rachel still laughing while Quinn mumbled her greeting in embarrassment against Rachel's neck.

"Hello, girls." Mrs. Landry replied with retrained teasing. She jerked on Hanky's leash and her puppy wagged his tail as he trotted over to the older woman.

"How's your hip, Mrs. Landry?" Rachel inquired as she swallowed down her laughter just barely, unlike Quinn.

Instead of answering, however, Mrs. Landry just rolled her eyes. "Have a good night, girls."

"Good night, Mrs. Landry." They answered back. As soon as the door shut behind the woman, Quinn and Rachel both unleashed their laughter as they held one another.

"Maybe we should go? We're really late."

Quinn rolled her forehead back and forth against Rachel's shoulder as she groaned. "Do _I _get to hump your leg first?" She whined. Rachel slapped Quinn's shoulder as she laughed before dragging her wife along down the hallway. "But Hanky got to!" Luckily, the gardenias were later rescued by Mrs. Landry.

X

Rachel was humming softly as she pulled Quinn down the block. Despite being late for their reservation the girls decided to walk to the restaurant. Quinn breathed Rachel's scent in deeply as she allowed her wife to lug her along. She had her arms slung around Rachel's neck as the toes of her shoes dragged against the sidewalk, not caring that they were now ruined. Rachel was completely supporting her weight and Quinn loved it. She loved how loud New York sounded around them but paid it no mind as she only listened to Rachel's humming. It was _Will You Love Me Tomorrow. _Quinn smiled her answer against Rachel's neck.

"Oooohhhh, I think someone famous is at the restaurant!" Rachel said excitedly as she noted the paparazzi in front of the place they were headed. Rachel gasped loudly. "Do you think it's Sarah? Because I'm frankly sick of seeing that Woody character. And I'm starting to think Maury is stalking me."

Quinn laughed against Rachel's shoulder at her wife's adorableness. Before she quickly sobbed. She unlooped her arms from Rachel and Rachel turned in surprise. She took in her wife's nervous expression and her tense shoulders. "Quinn? What's wrong?"

"Rach…" Quinn licked her lips as she eyed all the paparazzi in front of the restaurant. "What name did you give?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What _name _did you give for the reservation?"

Rachel's brow wrinkled as she stared at Quinn. "Rachel Berry or course. Quinn what's—oooooohhhhh!" Rachel placed her hand over her mouth as she crinkled her eyes in embarrassment. "Should I have not done that?" But then realization truly sunk in. "Oh! They're here for me! Yay!" Rachel hopped from foot to foot as she clapped excitedly before she turned to Quinn looking serious. "I can finally start using my codename: Barbratti Dionnelli!"

Quinn's eyebrows knitted in confusion before she started shaking her head in amused understanding. "Barbra, Patti, Dion, and Minnelli. Clever." Quinn answered.

"I know! How exciting!" Rachel said as she turned to watch the spectacle. "How do I look?" She asked as she nervously patted her hair.

Quinn glanced down shyly at the sidewalk before slowly drawling her gaze back up at her wife as she licked her lips. She loved how excited Rachel looked.

Rachel's hair was a little tousled from their earlier make out session, but other than that, Quinn thought she looked perfect. And she told her so. "Now take me to dinner." Quinn ordered before throwing her arms around Rachel's neck again, fully expecting Rachel to drag her along like before. Rachel giggled and turned her head to look at her wife.

"Is this really how you want to be photographed?" She asked, eyebrow raised as she held Quinn's wrists lightly.

"I'm sure everyone in the industry already thinks you're carrying me…mind as well make it literal." Quinn said with a cheesy smile.

Rachel rolled her eyes as she started pulling Quinn along. "Right. Like I didn't just read an article about how the only reason I get great roles is because my wife is a pit bull."

"That's probably true." Quinn responded as she placed her chin on Rachel's shoulder. "Maybe you should get on my back?" Rachel quickly released Quinn's wrist and shot her arm behind her to pinch Quinn's hip. Quinn shrieked out a laugh and Rachel quickly replaced her hand to continue pulling them down the block.

The shriek got the attention of the camera crew, however, and Quinn buried her face in Rachel's neck to avoid the bright lights and flashing cameras. Soon they were surrounded, only allowing enough room for Rachel to slowly progress towards the restaurant.

"How was the honeymoon?"

"Care to comment on the Tony rumors?"

"What about the rumors your marriage is fake?" Both girls laughed at that.

"When's the wedding special coming out?"

"Is it true you hooked up with a stripper the night before the wedding, Quinn?"

Questions continued to be shouted at them. "Do you want to say anything?" Quinn mumbled in Rachel's ear as they stood in front of the restaurant's entrance.

"Should I?" Rachel breathed back, glancing over her shoulder to take in Quinn's expression. She would do and say whatever Quinn thought was best.

"Answer them quickly and succinctly, and we'll send out coffee for everyone." Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear before ducking her head again against Rachel's shoulder. She hated getting her picture taken. Quinn stood, prying herself off Rachel but not moving far. She continued to rest her forehead on Rachel's shoulder as she felt her wife straighten and turn towards the cameras.

"Good evening everyone!" Rachel grinned broadly, hand on her hip and a teeth-exposing smile. "The honeymoon was perfect, I hate rumors, the marriage is very real, the special comes out early next week, and Quinn loves a good lap dance. Enjoy your evening!" Rachel finished with a wink before yanking an appalled Quinn into the restaurant.

"Rachel!" Rachel beamed in response as she turned to the hostess.

"Reservations for Rachel Berry? I know we're late and apologize deeply." The hostess smiled in return and waved for them to follow.

"I can't believe you said that!" Quinn hissed in Rachel's ear as she followed behind her wife.

Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed for Quinn's hand. "If I said it wasn't true they wouldn't believe me. I can hardly say _I_ gave you the lap dance. But if I made a joke out of it they'd think I knew all about it and there was nothing wrong."

"You didn't need to answer _that _question!"

Rachel giggled before her expression grew slack. The hostess was leading them over to a window seat, right where the paparazzi now stood outside. "Excuse me." Rachel began politely. "Is there any way we could sit somewhere _not _so public?"

The hostess grimaced as she glanced around the crowded restaurant. It _was _New York City's hotspot, and they were holding the table simply _because _the paparazzi were outside waiting for pictures of the newlyweds. "I'm afraid not, I'm sorry. We're completely full." She gave the frowning girls a sympathetic smile before placing down their menus. "Your wine list is on the table. Someone will be along shortly."

The girls stood there frowning at one another before Rachel pulled out Quinn's chair grumbling. "So much for a quiet first date." Quinn sighed as she sat down and swept out her napkin onto her lap. When Rachel moved to the other side of the table, however, Quinn glanced up.

"You're not sitting next to me?" Quinn pouted. She quite liked sitting next to Rachel during her meals. They had done it for most of their honeymoon and wanted to continue the tradition.

"No. Because if we sit next to each other you'll get fresh and I'll enjoy it and there is a camera crew outside. So instead," Rachel huffed as she sat across from her wife. "I'll just sit here." She beamed at Quinn falsely. "And pretend to be happy that our entire first date is being recorded."

Quinn mirrored Rachel's fake smile. "This absolutely sucks!" She gritted out around her smile. Rachel's eyes closed as she genuinely laughed.

"I'm having a terrible time!"

"Worst first date ever!" The laughed softly before Rachel was rolling her eyes.

"I'm sorry about this, Quinn. Next time I'll make sure to use my codename and take you somewhere not so public. I just wanted have our first date somewhere nice." Quinn internally swooned and ducked her head. When she looked up at Rachel and bit her lip, Rachel snaked her hand across the table to take Quinn's.

"This is really nice, Rach. I'm just happy we're doing this. Having a date." Rachel beamed at the admission, pleased that Quinn was labeling it as a date as well.

Rachel leaned forward a little, unable to contain her broad smile. "It is actually _kind _of appealing that our first date is recorded. For posterity's sake."

Quinn's expression was completely sober. "Oh, absolutely. Not at all awkward."

Rachel chuckled and squeezed Quinn's hand. "I suppose we'll have to get use to dealing with this." Quinn shrugged, silently agreeing. "But I'm sure you're familiar with having all eyes on you."

Quinn smirked and crossed one leg over the other as she rested her cheek against her palm. "McKinley was good for something, I suppose. We'll just have to practice ventriloquism!" Quinn cheered sarcastically between her unmoving lips. Rachel laughed before beaming back at Quinn.

"You're absolutely correct. It's best we give the paparazzi as little information as possible in regards to what is taking place this evening." Rachel answered through her teeth. "Tonight is highly personal and I'd rather not have it splashed across the tabloids."

Quinn only smiled around the rim of glass of water, internally mulling over how personal the two could get. Rachel was still holding her hand, and Quinn didn't hesitate to stroke the tanned skin with her thumb as she watched her wife. It was curious that Rachel seemed almost private with the paparazzi outside. So unlike her high-school-self. It pleased Quinn that Rachel didn't want to be flashy for the cameras. It also intrigued her greatly.

"So," Quinn began, taking back her hand and crossing her arms over her chest as she stared intently at Rachel. "What exactly is the precedent for a first date considering we're already married?"

Rachel swallowed thickly and dropped her gaze from Quinn's confident face. Inexplicably, Rachel was suddenly nervous. What exactly _was _supposed to happen? If it ended awkwardly, would it impede their relationship? _Could _they have a bad evening together? Rachel couldn't recall a time where she and Quinn didn't enjoy each other's company. Of course it could be possible, she surmised, Rachel just couldn't imagine it happening. But this was their first date. And Rachel was taking the reins. Surely Quinn was expecting some great, magical evening. Rachel was pretty spent after flowers and dinner. Why hadn't she planned more? Something Quinn deserved?

"Well," Rachel began slowly. "I was hoping we could share a nice meal and great conversation." Quinn narrowed her eyes as she watched Rachel hesitantly find her words. "Perhaps we could…um…"

Quinn's eyebrows lifted in a mix of amusement and confusion. Not even ten minutes ago they were comfortably walking down the street together. Before that, making out in the hallway of their apartment complex. Quinn wasn't quite sure why Rachel was nervous. But Rachel did.

_It's because your relationship isn't clearly defined. _

_There _are _a lot of unanswered questions…_

_Friends, roommates, colleagues, lovers, wives...there are too many titles and none of them truly fit. _

_I suppose a little bit of honesty is in order. _

"That's sounds perfect." Quinn stated as she reached for her water glass, cutting Rachel off before the girl could ramble her way into an embarrassing moment. Even if they were always adorable. She could tell Rachel was feeling the pressure of the title of a first date. Silly as it was. Quinn decided to spare her. "The show was fabulous tonight, Rach, really. You ready for the Tony's?" Quinn grinned widely.

Rachel swallowed hard yet again and nodded to the table before looking back at Quinn. Again, Quinn was surprised with how serious her wife appeared. "I'd rather talk about something else, if that's all right with you?"

Quinn was spared answering when the waiter approached.

"Good evening, ladies. May I interest you in our specials tonight? We have-"

"That's not necessary." Quinn interrupted as she examined her menu. "I'll have the caramelized broccoli stuffed shells." She directed as she handed over her menu.

"But without the red peppers." Rachel told the waiter.

The waiter's eyebrow rose in question at Quinn.

"Yes, without the red peppers."

"And for you, Ms?" He asked Rachel.

"I'll have the grilled asparagus wrap." Rachel beamed before also handing over her menu.

"Are you sure, Rach?"

Rachel's eyebrows knitted. "Yes, I'm sure."

Quinn turned to the waiter. "In that case, please listen carefully and write this down." The waiter immediately poised his pen and nodded. He suddenly had the sense that _this _table wasn't one to mess up. Rachel only watched on in confusion. "You must instruct the chef to lesson his lemon juice ratio by _one _tablespoon and _add _an additional teaspoon of the lemon zest." Rachel grinned widely, realizing that Quinn was right. She much preferred the additional lemon zest. The waiter was frowning as his hand flew across his tablet. "Make _sure _the changes are made because Rachel may _say _she wants the grilled asparagus, but she always complains of the bland lemon juice flavor. So make sure it's right or we'll send it back."

"Thank you!" Rachel smiled at the waiter. He nodded hastily and took off to the kitchen. Once they were left alone in their silence, Quinn waited for Rachel to bring up a topic of conversation she'd prefer to discuss besides the Tony's. Rachel took a cleansing sip of her wine before smiling and looking over at Quinn. They knew each other so well now. It wasn't always like that, of course. Before their bubble popped, they barely even saw one another.

"Sometimes I think about that night out. The one where you met all my Julliard friends? That was a fun night." Rachel finished as she glanced down shyly. Quinn's eyebrow flew to her hairline at the reference.

"Yes, it was."

Rachel glanced back at her wife, blushing slightly, as she smiled. "That was the night I realized that I liked you." She explained as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"_Really_." Quinn drew out in a purr as she smirked. "Before or _after _all the groping?"

Rachel flushed further as a smile spread. "I suppose I realized it _after_…or during…I'm not sure. Perhaps before?" She chuckled unsurely as she looked around the restaurant nervously.

Quinn nodded, still smiling smugly, as she watched Rachel squirm under the interrogation. When Rachel peeked back at her quiet wife, Quinn only sipped her wine. "And you?" Rachel asked softly, anxious to know.

Biting her lip in thought, mostly to torture Rachel, Quinn sighed and tossed her head a little. "I _realized_," Rachel squirmed even more. "Right before I bought your ring." Rachel's face slackened as she stared at Quinn with wide eyes. "But mostly," Rachel was having trouble understanding. _Did Quinn propose to us legitimately? _"But mostly I realized that I always had feelings for you."

She took another sip of wine, smirking as she swallowed, as she watched Rachel try to grasp the information. Her wife was sputtering quite a bit, and Quinn was enjoying watching everything crash down on her.

"Don't get me wrong, I was convinced for a really long time that I was just with you for selfish reasons. I dismissed how much I _really _enjoyed kissing you," Rachel's eyes got a little wider. "But that night you went out with Jesse and I was with Lydia and Jeremy, I was a _tad _drunk and figured out that I liked you. A lot. It didn't take long to realize just how much."

Rachel stared at Quinn, unseeing as her mind quickly raced through all the events before and around that time period. _Did she say she _always _liked us? _

"I finally understood why I went to you the night before graduation. Why, after you left, I was so depressed. Why I didn't even bother trying to make my life better. Because, Rachel," Hearing her name, Rachel finally looked into Quinn's soft eyes, reeling in her astonishment. "There were hundreds of things I could have done to make a life for myself."

"Why didn't you?" Rachel breathed out in awe, finally finding her voice.

Quinn smiled shyly as her fingertips skimmed the tabletop until her hand was covering Rachel's. "Don't you know?" Rachel shook her head slowly in amazement. "I was heartbroken." Quinn stated with narrowed eyes and a soft smile, confused as to why Rachel didn't put it together. Quinn thought she had been _more_ than obvious about her feelings toward Rachel.

"Why?" Rachel whispered, trapped by Quinn's intense stare.

"You left." Rachel's back hit her chair hard as she stared at Quinn in shock. "I was drunk that night before graduation." Quinn said with a smile and laugh. "And we _both _know how honest I am when I'm drunk.

Rachel nodded dumbly.

"I said a lot of things that night to you." Quinn was still grinning.

"You were being honest." Rachel stated in wonder. Quinn nodded with a laugh, pleased that Rachel was finally catching on. "But you were always so mean!" Quinn laughed louder.

"Hmmm."

Suddenly Rachel's face contorted into an expression of comprehension. "I _knew _it!" Rachel cheered with self-satisfaction.

Quinn smiled in amusement. "What did you know?"

"That first night here during our boxed dinner." Quinn nodded. "I _thought _you were always mean to me because you secretly liked me!"

Quinn blushed and covered her face with her palm as she shook with laughter. "You were right."

Suddenly Rachel wasn't so cheerful. "Oh, Quinn." Rachel sighed sadly. "You went through _so _much. How _terrible _it must have been for you. Being homeless, so lost." Quinn's smile softened as she observed Rachel over her wine. "I wish that night you came to see me you had been honest. I wish you had just told me that you had no other options that you were fond of. I know I would have brought you with me regardless of our terse relationship." Rachel's heart hurt over the thought of Quinn, so alone, lost in her emotions. All because she felt something she didn't understand.

Quinn nodded, knowing Rachel would have. Despite everything, Rachel would have opened her home to Quinn. "I don't think I was really ready to _be _that honest. I'm sure my pride thought we'd be more in control if I lied. Even if it wasn't really a lie." Quinn observed as she tapped her wine glass with the band of her diamond ring.

Rachel nodded, knowing that her wife's pride was something to be reckoned with. "Well…regardless of how it happened, it did. And now we're here."

"On our first date." Quinn whispered as she glanced up at Rachel through her eyelashes.

Rachel was still troubled by what Quinn had gone through. "It's quite a shame that you didn't realize sooner. We could have been together for…_a while_."

"Oh _really_?" Quinn drew out with a smirk. Rachel's eyes darted to Quinn's as she realized what she had just let slip.

"I suppose." Rachel mumbled around her wine glass bashfully. They were quiet as the sounds of the restaurant surrounded them, softly observing one another. The paparazzi were still outside by the window, sipping on their coffee as they waited for the pair to do something notable they could capture. "You look beautiful tonight." Rachel whispered with a soft gaze.

Quinn leaned forward slightly. With everything out in the open, the omission of their feelings, Quinn wanted to keep going. Their honeymoon was largely spent opening up to one another. Speaking of their past; high school. But now they were talking about the present. And presently, "I want you _so_ badly." Quinn breathed out, barely moving her lips to speak the words. Every moment that's what Quinn wanted. Rachel.

Rachel's breath caught in her throat. She cautiously glanced to her right to check out the window. "And I want _you_." She whispered back, also keeping her mouth from forming the words in case the paparazzi could interpret them. They were both _very _aware of their audience. "I don't believe this is the time to talk about that, however." Rachel mumbled as she slid her fingers up and down the stem of her wine glass, eyes on Quinn to make her point.

Quinn bit the corner of her lip as she stared back. Their waiter arrived with their food and refilled their wine glasses, but both girls continued to stare at one another, making no move to touch their meal. Ignoring Rachel's request, Quinn leaned further over the table. "You use to _murder _me when you'd walk around the apartment in only a towel."

Rachel bit back her smirk as she pushed her food around with her fork. "That was the point." She mumbled timidly. "Your restraint was quite annoying." Rachel pouted.

Quinn laughed as she cupped her cheek and examined Rachel. "What were you thinking in the bathroom at our engagement party?"

Rachel groaned through a slow smile as she leaned back in her chair with an eye roll. "That was tortuous."

"Tell me about it." Quinn breathed out through a chuckle and an eye roll. Rachel felt her body flush as waves of arousal rolled through her.

"Okay." Rachel said quietly through a puff of air. Quinn's eyes darted up to meet her wife's, sure she misheard. "You had me _so _close to release it was a miracle I was able to keep it together."

Quinn licked her lips and thought back to the night of the strip club. The night Rachel _hadn't _held back. "The night before the wedding…"

Rachel's chest started to rise and fall dramatically. "You really knew it was me?"

Quinn smiled briefly before mashing her lips together. "Even if the stripper who brought me back _didn't_ tellme," Rachel groaned loudly as she covered her face in embarrassment as she chuckled. "The fact that you brought your own chair and music—a mashup no less—tipped me off. And plus," Rachel's gaze peeked out between her fingers. "I know your body, Rach. The way you feel. The way you smell. How could I _not _know."

"What we did together…"

"I can't wait to do it again. This time _without _you wearing a mask. Or anything at all, for that matter." Quinn smirked into her wine glass as Rachel leered right back.

"Perhaps we can make plans to do just that tomorrow evening." Rachel said before taking a bite of food. But at that, Quinn's fork slipped between her fingers.

"_Tomorrow _night? What's wrong with tonight?"

Rachel's brow furrowed as she glanced back at her suddenly curt wife. "Quinn, I'm _exhausted_. How are you not?"

"I'm running on sexual frustration, Rachel!" Quinn murmured through her jaw. "Aren't _you_?"

Rachel sighed as she dropped her own fork. She leaned forward closer to Quinn and took her wife's hands into her own as she turned her head away from the window. "Believe me, Quinn, I'm _more _than ready to progress in this relationship. _More _than ready. Remember _I _was the one to walk around the apartment in next to nothing to try and seduce you and that was _months _ago." Quinn softened at the memory. "But I'd rather have a whole night to…well…do whatever we please instead of merely just sate our desire. And besides…" Rachel trailed off in embarrassment as she released her wife's hands. Quinn watched as Rachel pushed more food around on her plate as her cheeks flamed. "I have…_things _I need to do before that happens and I was unable to do it today."

"Things?" Quinn questioned with narrowed eyes.

"Yes, Quinn, _things_. Things a lady needs to do _before _sexual liaisons occur. I have an appointment between classes tomorrow."

Quinn's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "And you didn't do these _things _before the honeymoon?"

"_Yes, _Quinn, I did. But…you know…you must do these _things _regularly."

Quinn's eyebrow quirked higher. "How often do you need to do these _things_?"

Rachel's fork dropped again as she stared at Quinn with a frown. "I'll have you know, Quinn Fabray, that I'm very sensitive about these _things _and I would appreciate your sympathy!"

Quinn held her hands up as she forced her laugh down. "It's fine, Rachel, it's more than fine, I'm sorry." Rachel gave Quinn a long glance before she ducked her head and went back to eating while Quinn continued to stare in amusement. "You don't have to do those things, just so you know."

Rachel nodded her thanks as she chewed. "I'd rather." She consented after swallowing. "And that goes for you as well."

Quinn blanched. "I'm _sorry?_"

"Quinn, it's best all around. Your body will be more responsive, it feels better, and it makes it more pleasurable for your partner; me! And _me_ wants you to do it."

Quinn leaned forward and bit out a whisper. "You want me to _wax_?"

"Well yes, Quinn." Rachel stated shortly. "Other means aren't as…_smooth_."

Quinn sucked on her teeth as Rachel went back to eating. "You've got to be kidding me." She mumbled before spearing a vegetable.

"Well I would like to believe that you would want us to have a pleasurable first time. And part of that is satisfying your partner. Do you think that if I had my way I'd be spending hundreds of dollars on sexy lingerie?"

Quinn's ears perked up. "Sexy lingerie?"

Rachel huffed. "Yes, Quinn, sexy lingerie. Jen is coming by the theatre early tomorrow after her last class to take me shopping. I have a class, my appointment, another class, and then sexy lingerie shopping before my performance."

"You're taking Jen with you?" Quinn asked jealously. Which was ridiculous, she knew, because Jen was very straight and that's what your friends do. Go shopping with you.

"Well I can hardly take Jesse with me, can I?"

"That's not even a _little_ funny, Rachel." Quinn scolded, getting even more jealous at the thought. "I suppose I can make my own appointment after my classes and before I meet you at the theatre." Quinn stated slowly, already mentally wincing at the pain she knew she was in for.

Rachel beamed. "I would appreciate that greatly."

"That lingerie better be _really, really _sexy, Rach."

"It will be sexier than the lingerie _you _had."

Again, Quinn blanched. "What was wrong with my lingerie?" Quinn hissed as she leaned forward.

"Honestly, Quinn, if it reaches your ankles, it's _not _lingerie."

Quinn's mouth dropped open. "It was _sheer_!"

"It was champagne. Everyone knows lingerie should only be black, red, or white." Rachel listed calmly.

"Well I think you're wrong. Pink, for instance, is a very nice lingerie color. And purple. Purple can be nice, as well."

"Noted." Rachel smirked before taking another bite of her food. Quinn quite liked the smirk. The intention behind it. She happily enjoyed her meal while visions of Rachel swirled in her head. A lingerie-clad Rachel.

"We could always fool around just a little before bed." Quinn mumbled and she ducked over her plate as Rachel glared at her, not appreciating the temptation.

X

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, DAMN IT, DAMN IT, DAAAAMN IT! Please at least TRY and leave skin!" Quinn screamed, for perhaps, the millionth time since her appointment began. She no longer loved Rachel. She had started to hate her around the time she had to lift her skirt. She was calling a divorce lawyer in her head when the hot wax was applied. By the time she was handing over seventy dollars and a grimace toward the cashier, she was cursing Rachel under her breath with each wince.

So it was understandable that she was in a grumpy mood when her phone rang. "What?" She barked into her cell, hailing a cab and awkwardly wobbling over to the first one that pulled over.

"_Hello to you, too_."

Quinn's jaw clenched as she stood frozen outside the cab. She did _not _have the patients for this. "Hello, Puck. What is it that you want?" She asked coolly as she slipped into the cab as carefully as possible. She gave the driver directions while Puck chuckled.

"_I'm in town. I wanna see you tonight. I got tickets for Rach's show and I want to take you out to dinner after_."

"I can't. Busy." Quinn answered back as she rubbed her forehead before adjusting her sitting position the best she could to avoid pain. She was starting to wonder if they even _could _have sex considering how sore she was.

"_Well I'm only in town tonight, baby mama, and I need to see you_."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the nickname, but softened slightly. "I really am busy tonight, Puck. If it's a matter of money I really don't mind getting you a hotel room another night. Rachel and I would like to see you, but-"

"_Nah, I can't stay another night. I have to get back to work. It has to be tonight. I can meet up with you after you're done your thing_." He sounded almost desperate, which concerned Quinn.

"What's wrong? Do you need something? Are you okay?"

Again, Puck laughed. "_I'm fine, things are good. It's just really important that we talk. Just me and you_." Quinn closed her eyes tightly as the cab pulled up in front of the apartment. She sat a moment before handing over money and a thanks before getting out. If Puck wanted to meet with her, just her, and it was really important, there was only one thing it could be about.

Quinn reflected on her answer for a moment as she fumbled with her purse, tea, and her cell as she opened her mailbox and fished out its contents. "Let me call you back, okay?" Quinn mumbled as she took the elevator up to her apartment.

"_Sure thing, Q. Just call me_." Quinn murmured back a "fine" and disconnected as she fell onto the living room couch.

"Fucking Lima." She breathed out miserably.

Quinn blindly threw her keys onto the living room table as she flipped through the mail. She grinned once she reached the manila envelope that was addressed to both her and Rachel and dumped the rest of the mail onto the table. Suddenly the pain from her Brazilin wax was gone. Quinn knew what was inside the envelope before she even opened it, but once she did, she was smiling widely as she stared down at the picture of Rachel on the cover of _Black Curtain_ magazine.

This was the first of many magazines Rachel would appear on, and Quinn was so excited to read the interview and look at all the pictures taken. She quickly sent off a text to Rachel informing her the magazine had arrived before heading into the bedroom to change out of her dress. It was a hot, sticky day and the fabric clung to her sweaty back…and the wax. She needed a shower before she did anything else.

After her shower and throwing on a t-shirt and shorts, Quinn squealed before climbing into her and Rachel's bed to read the article featuring her wife. The cover was a close-up shot of Rachel's profile done in black and white with a hint of a smirk on Rachel's lips. Quinn bit her lip as she smiled down at the photo, proud of Rachel's accomplishments.

Quinn knew that inside the magazine would be four more shots of Rachel. Just like the one on the cover there would be a second serious picture of her wife, a playful shot of Rachel in a dress still mid-twirl, and the fourth of Rachel looking quite sexy. Both she and Rachel had approved each picture so there wouldn't be any surprises.

But, as Quinn flipped through the pages, she _would _be surprised. Because once she caught sight of Rachel's sexy pose, lying out on the black leather couch in nothing but white tights as a blood red pillow covering everything Quinn longed to see, she immediately felt aroused.

"_Oh_. _Rachel_." Quinn groaned as she stared down at her wife. Rachel's eyes seemed to be staring right through Quinn, dark and seductive. Quinn raced her gaze over Rachel's naked form and wished—God, how she wished—that the pillow wasn't covering Rachel's breasts and between her legs.

Quinn traced her fingertip over Rachel's long, dark hair that splayed over the back of the couch. "You're _so_ posing like this for me." The fantasy began before Quinn could even think to stop it. She was no longer in the bedroom, but leaning up against the living room wall as Rachel lay naked on their couch. Her wife was looking up at her seductively as the pillow sat positioned to tease Quinn. Quinn smirked back at Rachel and lifted her eyebrow to indicate that she no longer wanted the obstruction.

Biting her lip, Rachel flung the pillow across the room and smirked back up at Quinn. She teased her wife by spreading her legs briefly before shutting them several times, still biting her lip. Rachel's eyebrow quirked, showing Quinn that it was her move. "Open. All the way." Quinn breathed out, moving a few steps closer. Rachel obliged, parting her thighs widely as she stared up at Quinn, ready for her next direction.

Real life Quinn was breathing heavier as her eyes continued to race of her wife's picture.

_This is so wrong. _

_She's your wife. _

_Still wrong. _

_You're going to be sleeping together tonight. _

_God, this is so _right.

Quinn's hand began moving over the fabric of her shorts, feeling the heat that radiated underneath. She kept her eyes locked on Rachel's, knowing that dark expression coming from her wife very well. Quinn had seen it enough times over the past two years: That first night out with Rachel's Julliard friends, the few times they made out before the truth was exposed, the strip club, their honeymoon, the previous night on their date, and earlier that morning when Rachel woke Quinn up with kisses and mumbled words of excitement for later on in the evening. Seeing that smoldering expression always instantly made Quinn wet and this time was no different.

"_Fuck _Rach." Quinn breathed out as she began rubbing harder. She had to force herself to loosen her grip on the magazine page as her body started to tense and twitch with each up and down stroke of her hand. She knewthat she was impossibly wet. The kind of wet that only Rachel made her. Quinn never put much stock in masturbating—always either getting bored during or unable to finish—but her body was coiled so tightly that she knew that she wasn't stopping.

Quinn quickly pulled her shorts and panties down her legs before scurrying underneath her bedspread. She positioned the magazine just right so she wouldn't need to strain to see Rachel's naked body and stroked her bare stomach as her eyes feasted on Rachel's legs.

They were parted slightly, enough to be alluring without being vulgar. They looked so tan and long splayed out on the black leather couch. As Quinn's nipples hardened against her bra, she trailed her hand up higher and dipped into the lace to try and alleviate the tension. She gently squeezed her nipple and gasped at the sensation mixed with the myriad of images playing in her head. Images of sliding in between Rachel's bare legs, feeling skin against skin. Of Rachel glancing up at her as she took Quinn's puckered nipple between her full lips. The smoldering eyes latching onto her own as they moved against one another. Panting. Moans. Her own cries echoed around the bedroom as she tried and failed to grasp onto something to keep from exploding into a thousand and one Quinn particles.

As her fingers tugged at her hard nipple while lace rubbed against the other, Quinn's right hand slithered against the skin of her thighs before dancing in between her legs. Her clit was already sopping, which indicated just how wet she really was. Quinn stroked her hard clit once and shivered violently with how deliciously relieving it felt to get some satisfaction. Before, she never quiet knew what to do to please herself, but suddenly, her body was screaming out directions.

Without thought, and with her gaze firmly on Rachel's alluring expression, Quinn used the tip of her middle finger to slowly rub her clit back and forth. With each stroke, her pace became quicker. With each image of a naked Rachel spread out for her benefit, her finger's motion became harder and sloppier.

Quinn could practically hear Rachel's sobs of pleasure. Hear Rachel moaning as she fucked Quinn. _Hear _Rachel's desperate pleas to continue. It was so visual that Quinn didn't hesitate to slide her finger down further to where a pool of wetness was spilling out eagerly. "_Fuuuck, yess_," Quinn hissed as her head slammed back against the bedpost. She managed to keep her eyes open and locked on the picture of her wife. Imagining Rachel's hand disappearing behind the blood-red pillow to fuck herself as Quinn watched.

Her finger slid in and out her pussy effortlessly despite how extremely tight she was. Each time her walls clenched and pulsated, Quinn felt further relief in the knowledge that she was finally sating a part of her that had never before had been reached. That she was finally allowing her mind to race with fantasies that had long ago started to pile up.

Quinn's toes dug into the bed as she rocked along with finger. Her thumb couldn't quiet keep the pace she wanted, so Quinn's other hand dove down between her thighs to rub her clit in short, tight circles. "Fuck, Rachel. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, yess._" Quinn was rocking against the bed hard and the additional sensation of her nipples rubbing against her lace bra led to further pleasure.

She was close. Her body was twitching with each stroke of her clit; each time her finger dove in and out of her pussy. Quinn's walls were clenching firmly around her soaking wet finger erratically in warning of what was to happen. And all the while, Quinn's stare stayed firmly affixed to her wife's seductive expression, almost as though Rachel were begging Quinn to come for her.

"Oh, _God, _I will. _Fuck_, I will, Rach. So hard, so _fucking _hard for you." The words were so strangled and her voice so husky that Quinn hardly recognized her own voice. As she stared down at Rachel, Quinn remembered the look on her gorgeous wife's face just before she came on Quinn that night in the strip club. And that was all she needed. "_Fuu uck_," Quinn hissed out as her pussy throbbed and fluttered around her finger, and she came with a thundering in her ears as spots exploded behind her eyelids.

"_Jesus!_" Quinn breathed out as her head thumped against the headboard. She carefully pulled her finger out and rested her twitching hand against her wet thigh and moved her other hand an inch away from her still pulsating clit.

Quinn's eyes slid shut as her heart continued to race. She hadn't even noticed how fast it had been pumping, but now it seemed as though it was unhealthy and slightly disconcerting how rapidly it pounded. She tried to take shallower breaths, but the realization that she had just fantasy-fucked Rachel made her pants even more superficial.

The slow smile was unavoidable. Because, Quinn observed as her smile got wider, she'd be doing the real thing later that night. The lecherous chuckle that escaped Quinn's dry throat couldn't be stopped either. She felt fantastic! And later that night, she'd only feel better.

More images painted Quinn's mind. Her heart continued to thud away. Her breathing stayed labored. It was understandable that she never heard the front door open. But at the sound of the bedroom door opening, Quinn immediately reacted.

It only made sense to Quinn that she needed to get rid of the evidence first. So, with a panicked curse, Quinn grabbed the magazine and chucked it across the bedroom where it hit her closet and slid down to the floor.

She didn't have time for anything else. Because, there in the doorway, out of breath and beaming with excitement, stood Rachel. "Where is it? Where is it?"

Quinn swallowed with difficulty as she slid up higher on the bedframe. She was suddenly _very _happy she had gotten underneath the covers. Quinn's eyes widened slightly to try and focus on Rachel. For some reason, it felt like she had tunnel vision and a hazy gloss was covering her sight.

"Wh-_heh_ _hem_-what, Rach?"

Rachel shot into the room frantically as her head swiveled around in exploration. Quinn tried to discretely move the covers closer to her half-naked body as she watched her frenzied wife. "The magazine, Quinn! _My _magazine! Where is it?" To Quinn's horror, Rachel lifted up the comforter in her search and Quinn squeaked a little as she tried to keep them tight to her body. "Quinn! What are you doing? I left the theatre as _soon _as I got your text and need to get back there ASAP!" Rachel shrieked as they played tug-o-war with the covers.

"Over there! It's over there!" Quinn hissed as she held tight to the blanket. Rachel released the blanket at once and huffed as she put her hands on her hips.

"Why didn't you just say so?" Rachel quickly moved to the other side of the bedroom before she stood over her magazine. It was perched precariously against the closet and the floor, the cover opened with the pages fanned out. Even from the bed, Quinn could tell that it was slightly bent, and her lips disappeared between her teeth for the storm that was about to hit.

But Rachel remained frozen. Just hovering over the magazine unmoving. Quinn took it as an opportunity to rescue her shorts and panties—and her dignity—from the bedroom floor. Just as her fingers were about to connect with her clothes, however, Rachel wheeled around to glare at Quinn.

Quinn yanked her hand back guiltily as her wide-eyes took in Rachel's glower. "Quinn Fabray!" Rachel scolded, hands back on her hips. "What is the meaning of this?"

Quinn swallowed thickly again, whishing there was a glass of water she could chug to avoid Rachel's question and to sate her thirst; somehow, her throat was even dryer than before.

"_Well?_" Rachel demanded, stomping her foot dramatically as she stared at Quinn.

And maybe if Quinn didn't just have the biggest—and first—orgasm of her life, she would have been able to come up with something, _anything_, but her mind was mush and Rachel's diva pose had the images and fantasies barreling threw her head, making her ache return.

"We're having sex tonight."

Rachel blanched, frowned, and narrowed her eyes all at once at Quinn's random statement. Her hands slid from her hips as she stared dumbfounded at her wife.

Blinking a few times, Rachel turned away from Quinn to pick up her magazine. She wanted to say something to the affirmative, but she was still very, very pissed that Quinn disregarded her very first magazine cover. Or anything Rachel-related for that matter!

She was still frowning as she flipped through the magazine. Quinn watched on, debating whether or not she should again attempt to retrieve her clothing. She watched her wife's expression, knowing that Rachel had found the article and pictures, and knew it was too risky. She could only hope that Rachel would just bring the magazine with her to the theatre.

But that didn't happen.

Rachel held the magazine close to her nose as she blindly made her way to the bed. She sat down, just beside Quinn, and smiled at the pictures. "These came out lovely." Rachel breathed out, too distracted to notice Quinn's anxious expression. Because, frankly, Quinn was no longer worried about being caught. The ache that had started a _long _time ago that had been only momentarily stated before Rachel arrived, was thrumming once more with the close proximity of her wife. Of the thought of Rachel discovering that she was half-naked bellow the covers. Of the thought of Rachel leaning of how wet Quinn was.

Rachel giggled as she read over the interviews reaction to her answers. Completely forgetting that she was angry with Quinn. "Listen to this," Rachel began as she glanced up at Quinn. But at seeing Quinn's expression and taking in her flushed and sweaty face, Rachel's eyebrows knitted in concern. "Quinn…you look _awful_, are you okay?"

Quinn swallowed and nodded hastily. But Rachel wasn't convinced. She reached out and pressed the back of her hand to Quinn's hot, sweaty forehead before gasping. "Quinn! You're burning up!"

Quinn gulped and shook her head swiftly, getting Rachel to frown. "Sweetie, you _are. _What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm f-fine, Rachel. Just a bit warm." Again, Rachel wasn't convinced, but she knew that Quinn didn't like anyone to hover. So with a frown, she glanced back down at the magazine while silently hoping that Quinn would admit to whatever was ailing her. She flicked her gaze to the clock beside the bed and frowned further. She didn't have time to go through the whole article just now. So with a light sigh, Rachel turned the page of the magazine and came face to face with her scantily-clad self. She giggled happily at the picture; she looked _good_.

But when she glanced back up at Quinn to share, she became more concerned. Because Quinn's shifty gaze was eyeing Rachel's half-naked self with massive guilt. The flush on the pale cheeks became more pronounced and Rachel noticed that Quinn's breathing was labored.

Quinn licked her lips nervously as she watched Rachel's gaze drift down to the floor beside the bed to where her shorts and panties lay, before darting back up to Quinn's guilty expression. "Oh." Rachel stated simply as she stared at the comforter, eyebrows drawn.

A million and one thoughts raced through her cluttered mind. Each more outlandish than the next.

_She's flushed…_

_Nervous…_

_Her pupils are blown…_

_Her shorts and panties are on the floor…_

_And Quinn _never _leaves clothes lying around…_

_She protested when we tried to lift the covers…_

_My magazine, a magazine she's been just as excited for, was lying askew on the floor…_

_With the pages crinkled…_

_She's sexual frustrated…_

_There's a near-naked picture of me in this magazine…_

_She looks guilty…_

_And _exactly _how she did that night of the strip club!_

"OH!" Rachel gasped as her eyes widened. Quinn saw the realization dawn on her wife's face and covered her eyes in embarrassment. She felt her cheeks warm further and squirmed beneath the covers.

Watching Quinn react was as good as a confession. Rachel glanced down at the magazine picture of herself before she looked around the room unseeing.

_Quinn was just…was just _masturbating!

_To a picture of us!_

_Oh dear, God in heaven… _

_She's half naked underneath these blankets! _

_She's wet and aching for us…_

A barrage of images bombarded Rachel as she visualized Quinn's exploits. In her mind's eye she saw Quinn naked and spread out on the bed as she impaled herself on her pale fingers. Panting. Heaving. Breasts bouncing as she sang out Rachel's name.

"AHHH!" Rachel shrieked suddenly at the feel of her phone vibrating in the pocket of her dress. She jumped off the bed slightly and shoved her cell to her ear as her still wide eyes sought out Quinn. Her wife wasn't looking at her, however, but training her gaze on the blankets she nervously picked at. "Rachel Berry, how may I-"

She was cut off by her costar's questioning yelps, demanding to know where she was for sound checks. Apparently, everyone was ready and waiting for Rachel and Rachel was busy picturing her wife fuck herself mercilessly for Rachel's viewing pleasure.

"Be there in five." Rachel answered hastily as she jammed her phone back into its pocket. But Rachel just stood there, eyes on the clock as she remained frozen. Quinn's gaze flicked to Rachel before looking away quickly; still too embarrassed to make eye contact.

"I have to go." Rachel stated rather loudly, the full weight of what she had just stumbled upon still not clicking. But she knew enough to understand that she couldn't just leave.

_A hug?_

_A handshake?_

_I can't kiss her right now, for the love of all that is holy, if I kiss her right now I'll miss my show!_

_What can I say?_

"_Thanks for thinking of me?" _

_Sing the refrain to the Divinyl's _I Touch Myself?

_Perhaps something more updated? Britney? _

_What about some Cyndi Lauper? _

_What the hell are we talking about? We need to get to the theatre! _

_And besides, we'd mortify Quinn if we made mention to…to…fuck, I want to miss this show! _

_Deep breaths, deep breaths. Just…just don't say anything. Just…leave. _

_Leave?_

_Yes, before we attack her, Rachel! _

_You listen here, Rachel, I've had about enough of you and your-_

_We're late! Save the lecture for the cab!_

_Yes, the cab!_

_Go!_

_Quinn masturbating_

_A packed house, costars, production crews, and Tony awards. Now get the hell out of here! _

_Yes, I'm leaving, I'm leaving! _

Rachel abruptly turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door closed behind her in her haste.

On the bed, Quinn's sigh was monumental as her whole body uncoiled. She had just dodged the biggest, most humiliating bullet of her life. Of course Rachel _knew_, but she hadn't said anything. She would eventually, because that's what Rachel did. But hopefully it would be later. Maybe when they were fooling around. When the humiliation wasn't so fresh. Maybe when—

Quinn's thoughts were cut off when the bedroom door swung open yet again. She tensed as she watched Rachel storm across the room in great determination. Quinn's mouth flew open as Rachel swept the comforter covering Quinn back and stared openly at Quinn's half-naked body. Quinn was so shocked by her wife's reappearance she sat their frozen, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, as Rachel unabashedly ogled her.

After perhaps a full minute, Rachel finally let the covers go and stood up straight with the biggest shit-eating grin Quinn had ever seen, which quickly morphed into the smuggest, smirkiest of all smirks. "Thanks, wifey." Rachel purred before winking. And then she was gone.

Almost a half hour went by before Quinn's mouth finally snapped shut.

X

After earlier's events, it was quite understandable that Quinn forgot to call Puck back. She was in the middle of buying Rachel flowers—orchids, because they were the most expensive flowers the florist had and Quinn felt the need to over-spend in a silent apology(?) for masturbating to pictures of her wife—when her cell rang again.

"Quinn Fabray." She answered as she exited the flower shop and hailed a cab.

"_You didn't call me back_."

"Puck," Quinn sighed out. She silently wondered if the fact that Puck kept calling as she hailed a cab was a microcosm for their relationship; like she was always trying to get away from him. "Look, I'm sorry, it's been a…_interesting _day."

"_Whatever, it's fine. Are we on for tonight, or what?_"

Quinn sighed again. She felt bad about it, _truly_, but tonight was her night with Rachel and she did _not _want to pass that up. She momentarily thought about meeting up with him, making it a really, _really _fast visit, and hightailing it back to Rachel. But she knew that wouldn't work. Rachel wanted a whole night alone. Not a quick hour to sate their desires. Rachel could be hurt that she was blowing her off for Puck. Or really excited that she and Puck were finally talking about Beth and insist that they reschedule their own plans. Or worse, be _livid _with Quinn for even talking to Puck out of jealousy. Most likely it would be all three.

"Puck, I'd really like to see you, but I have plans with Rachel and I can't blow her off."

Puck chuckled darkly on the other line, and Quinn knew that she instantly said the wrong thing. "_You see Rachel every day. And when have I ever asked you for _anything, _Q, _anything?"

Quinn blew out a breath as her irritation mounted. "Oh, I don't know, Puck. How about the time you asked me to have a wine cooler. Or to come up to your room to see your new stupid video game. Or to '_trust_ you'. Go out on a date after you _knocked _me up," The cab driver glanced into his review mirror and Quinn glared at him. He quickly diverted his attention back to the road. "Or, I don't know, when you begged me to keep her. Begged me to name her-"

"_Okay, okay. So I've asked you for a few things before. But this time I _really _need to see you." _

Quinn sighed as she scratched the back of her neck out of frustration. Puck was a good guy. For whatever reason seeing her was important to him and Quinn felt annoyed as she started to soften. And he did have a point. She'd get to see Rachel every day and Puck was only asking for one night. "Where are you?" She asked moodily.

"_At the theatre in line waiting_."

"And how long are we talking about here? An hour, two hours-"

"_Jesus, Quinn, I don't know!" _He huffed out. She could picture his defensive stance, leaning forward, head snapping back and forth slightly, with his arms outstretched at his sides.

"Fine." Quinn conceded as her eyes slid closed and her head slumped against the back seat. "I'll put your name on the list to get backstage. Meet me there after the show and we'll go grab something to eat."

"_Awesome, baby mama, I'm giving you a big smooch over the line!" _

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save it. You owe me, Puck. You owe me like you _wouldn't_ _believe_." And with that, she stabbed her phone off and collapsed back against the seat in misery. "I'm never getting laid. Never. This just freaking figures." Again, the driver glanced at Quinn through the review mirror. "Just keep your eyes on the road, pal!" She scolded as she jabbed her finger at the man.

X

Rachel knew that she should be running lines. Or practicing numbers. Or even just applying makeup. She knew she should be doing a lot of things. But instead, she was just grinning like a lunatic as she swirled back and forth in her vanity chair while thoughts of a masturbating Quinn assailed her thoughts. She was however, humming _I Touch Myself_.

At the sound of Quinn's firm two-knock rap, Rachel's dreamy expression turned into another smarmy smile before she was up and bounding for the door. As soon as Quinn was in sight, Rachel's arms were around her as her lips covered her shocked wife's.

Quinn didn't even have a chance. She was being dragged into Rachel's dressing room as Rachel lavished her lips with her mouth, tongue, and teeth, as her racing hands devoured whatever she could reach. Another bouquet of flowers suffered the tragedy of passion when Quinn unceremonious tossed them to the floor in favor of Rachel's ass.

The speech she had prepared—the one about Puck, not the masturbation one—was completely forgotten as her passion renewed itself. Rachel's tongue felt hunger-quenching as it slid against her own, and Quinn didn't hesitate to grip Rachel's ass harder in response. Her clit was throbbing again. It hadn't really seemed to stop. Her body felt light and airy as she pushed against Rachel, directing them to a surface—any surface—so she could again satisfy her desperate need.

Rachel back hit her vanity and she moaned. Quinn's kisses were just as urgent as her own. She knew her wife was wound up again. More images of Quinn fucking herself flashed in Rachel's mind, and suddenly the sounds of her own moaning were rumbling throughout the room.

She sucked on Quinn's tongue, just the way her wife liked, and, without preamble, Quinn was heaving Rachel up onto the vanity's shelf in desperation. Quinn shifted in between Rachel's legs and felt her panties cling to her soaked core. She was _more _than ready for this. It didn't hurt that Quinn had fantasized about doing just this since Rachel acquired the private dressing room. She moved flush against Rachel and moaned loudly at the feel of Rachel's heat against her own.

"What you did today," Rachel mumbled against Quinn lips as she blindly reached out to undo the buttons on Quinn's shirt. "It's all I can think about." She was moaning again as their mouths collided. She sucked eagerly on Quinn's bottom lip as her hands dove into Quinn's shirt, not even bothering to finish undoing it completely.

Quinn's head dropped to Rachel's shoulder as her wife pulled down the cups of her bra to grasp Quinn's breasts. "Fuck, Rachel." She moaned against Rachel's neck before she messily began applying open-mouthed kisses along the column.

"You have _no _idea how wet you've made me." Rachel breathed out as she palmed one of Quinn's breasts before pinching a hard nipple. "_No _idea."

Quinn nodded dumbly against Rachel shoulder as she tried to get out the words around her harsh pants. "I do, _God_, Rachel, I do." She whimpered before sinking her teeth into tanned skin. Rachel's reply was a loud moan before she was squeezing Quinn's breasts ruthlessly. Quinn was panting so hard against Rachel's neck that her skin was moist. Quinn moaned again and kissed and licked and bit at the clear vein that throbbed in Rachel's neck.

"_Fuck, _that feels so good, Quinn." Their bodies rubbed against one another as Quinn stuffed her hands underneath Rachel's shirt urgently.

"I'm going to fuck you right here." Quinn moaned.

"Yes, _fuck_, yes. I want you so badly!"

Just as Quinn yanked down Rachel's bra and covered her wife's breasts with her hands, there was a loud knocking on the dressing room door. Quinn's movements completely stilled and she slammed her forehead down on Rachel's shoulder.

"Just ignore it. Just ignore it. Keep going. Tell me what you're going to do to me." Rachel murmured out urgently.

"Mrs. Berry?"

"You have _got _to be kidding me!" Quinn groaned in defeat. Neither Quinn nor Rachel had removed their hands from the other's breasts, but all movement had halted as they both panted. There was another loud knock at the door.

"Mrs. Berry? There are two men here to see you!"

Suddenly, Rachel was chuckling in relief. "It's okay, Quinn. We can keep going." Rachel mumbled before she dove for Quinn's neck and her hands started massaging her wife's breasts yet again.

"Why?" Quinn asked, now not caring about whoever was on the other side of the door.

"Because whoever they are, they don't have a right to be back here," Rachel moaned against Quinn's neck as Quinn continued her ministrations to Rachel's breasts. "They're not cast, they're not crew, and no one is on the VIP list to get back here."

"Hmmm." Quinn hummed before she bit down on the round of Rachel's shoulder. Their hips started moving against one another again, both happy to ignore Paul the Security Guard and whoever else was with him.

"Rach?"

Quinn's head, once again, collapsed onto her wife's shoulder as her hands fell away from Rachel's breasts.

"Was that Noah?" Rachel panted out in question—her hands also dropped to her sides.

"Yes." Quinn answered miserably.

"Why is Noah Puckerman outside my dressing room, Quinn?" Rachel questioned curiously, still breathing hard.

"Because karma is a real Santana-Lopez-like bitch, Rach." Quinn mumbled before pulling away from her wife to straighten her clothes. Rachel quickly did the same before she slid off her vanity and slowly approached the door.

Quinn watched the whole scene in annoyance. Apparently, Puck wanted to say hi to Rachel and wish her luck before the show. With him, was Will Schuester. Their old glee coach was there, as promised, on a field trip from McKinley. Out in the audience was over fifty students who were "So excited! to see a Lima native perform on the big stage!"

Rachel felt bad that her smiles were completely fake. That she was not at all happy to see her old teacher and friend. She was still out of breath as she listened to Mr. Schue babble, hands on her hips as she smiled, all while trading looks of desperation with Quinn. Puck rode the bus down with the class, and Mr. Schue was hoping that Rachel would talk to the kids while Quinn and Puck went out to dinner.

At the mention of Quinn and Puck dining together, however, Rachel's stoic gaze snapped to her wife. Quinn sighed in misery from the couch, pointedly avoiding Rachel.

"Well that all sounds lovely." Rachel finally said, mustering up a smile that, thankfully, her old teacher bought. "I can't wait to catch up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some last minute things I must attend to before the show."

"Of course, of course!" Will said happily, his boyish smile wide. "You have to prepare! We'll see you soon." Rachel grinned falsely as she walked the two men out. "Break a leg!" Will joked with another laugh before he followed Paul down the backstage hallway.

Once the two men disappeared, Rachel shut the door despondently and wearily made her way to the couch. She collapsed half on top of Quinn and whimpered. Quinn wrapped her arm around her wife and softly rubbed up and down Rachel's arm in a silent agreement. "We're never having sex."

"Never."

"Mr. Schue really _is _out to get me."

"Puck must have radar."

"Puck!" Rachel was suddenly screeching as she jumped to her feet. Her one hand flew to her cocked hip as she stabbed her finger into the air. "Like _hell _you're hanging out with Puckerman alone! I can't _believe _you didn't tell me! Covering up your adulterous dinner with masturbation and hot make out sessions! And we were going to have _sex _tonight!"

Quinn groaned as she slid down onto the couch until her face was buried in a pillow. "_Rach_." Quinn whined. This is _exactly _what she was afraid of.

"Don't 'Rach' me, missy!"

Quinn sat up on the couch resignedly and sighed. "Rachel, do you _honestly _think that I'd rather go to dinner instead of having sex with you? After what you…caught me…_doing_?"

Rachel frowned as her body loosened. "Well…I suppose not."

"Trust me, Rach, I'd much rather be with you."

"Well when did this little 'date,' get set up?" Rachel asked as she folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at Quinn.

"He called me earlier today and begged me." They were both silent for a moment. "I think he wants to talk about Beth."

Rachel tutted before she collapsed down next to Quinn on the couch. "No fair." She mumbled. Quinn's gave a half-hearted smile before she was pulling Rachel towards her. "I can't get mad at you for _that_."

With the toe of her shoe, Quinn nudged the fallen orchids. "These are for you."

Rachel leaned her head against Quinn's shoulder and smiled softly. "You _shouldn't_ have." Quinn bit her lip as she smiled.

"They're an 'I'm sorry for the Puck and…the _other _thing' flowers." Rachel chuckled glumly; yet _another _night would go by without sleeping with her wife. Quinn's thoughts were the same.

Quinn sighed softly. She was almost positive she was going to break out in tears if she didn't get to _really _touch Rachel soon. "I think I'm going to cry." Quinn whimpered as her lips trembled. She was really _that _sexual frustrated.

Rachel expelled a large breath. "If I had any more moisture to spare, I'd be right there with you."

X

If Rachel couldn't be having sex with Quinn, she was doing the second best thing: talking about herself. Her long legs dangled over the stage as the fifty-plus McKinley students pegged her with questions. Ranging from everything like "What's it like to be on Broadway," to "Is New York as scary as my dad says it is," and even, "What's it's like being married to _the _Quinn Fabray."

She was having a ball. As she glanced around at each kid's face, Rachel saw the light of excitement. It very much so reminded her of herself at that age. Only she had been more talented. Even Mr. Schue asked questions. But the biggest question on everyone's lips, was what Rachel would do next.

Another play? Movies? Television? Reality shows? But Rachel didn't have an answer. It was at that moment that it hit her: she was content. Perfectly content. She had friends and family, Broadway, and Quinn. She wanted for nothing. Except, perhaps, for Quinn to be with her at that exact moment, holding her hand.

"Fucking Lima." Rachel gritted out in a whisper between a bright smile for her young audience. "Fucking, Puckerman."

But, uncharacteristically, Noah Puckerman was acting very un-Puck like as he and Quinn approached a small corner bar not far from the theatres. He was jittery, Quinn observed, and kept rubbing his hands over his faded khakis. The pants alone were suspect; even the way his blue polo was sloppily tucked in made her pause. Puck had dressed up. Well…as much as Noah Puckerman can. The khakis were still baggy and ripped, so it wasn't like he was wearing a suit or anything. But even so, his behavior was making Quinn quite curious.

"What can I get'cha?"

"Water for me." Quinn told the waitress. A quick glance over the menu told her there wouldn't be anything that she could eat. She didn't trust bar salads.

"Uh…I'll have whatever's on tap and a bacon cheeseburger." Soon it was just the two of them. Puck was still acting nervous. Quinn appraised him as she sipped her water through her straw while silently wondering when he'd start talking. _Is he sweating? _

"So…" Quinn began and tisked awkwardly while raising her eyebrow slightly to silently communicate that he had the floor.

"So." Puck echoed as he glanced around the less-than crowed bar.

"You wanted to talk?" Quinn prompted. Puck quickly took a few gulped of beer and wiped the foam away from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You want a bite of my burger?" He asked to distract her.

"I don't eat meat." She answered and pursed her lips at the awkward tension.

"Weird." Is all he said, realizing how much the girl across from him had changed.

"So…talk?"

"Yeah…uh…" Quinn's eyebrows furrowed as Puck ducked down to grab the messenger bag he had brought with him. Suddenly, he was pulling out thick stacks of papers; he looked even more anxious. "Um…the reason I-_he hem_-the reason I, uh, asked you here tonight was…" Quinn rested her palm against her cheek as she watched the boy completely fall apart in front of her.

He was sweating even more now. He almost knocked over his beer. He cursed loudly when he got Ketchup on his papers. Quinn pursed her lips with wide eyes as she waited for him to get his shit together and calm down enough to actually pick a sentence and go with it.

Finally, after he gulped down the rest of his beer and ordered another one, he was able to take a breath. "Mrs. Fabray," Quinn's eyes bulged. "I brought you here tonight in an effort to see if you'd be interested in possibly investing in my plans for starting a barbeque restaurant slash bar."

Quinn's "what the fuck" face appeared faster than you can say Beth. "Your _what_?" She asked in confusion.

"I know it's crazy." He started gravely as he held up his hands. "But I'm really serious about this, Q. I'm, like, taking a lot of really hard business classes and leaning so much from the dude that owns the restaurant I work at and…I don't know. I really want to do this!"

Quinn motioned to the papers cluttering the table before them with narrowed eyes. "Are these _business _plans?"

Puck nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. I wanted you to take me seriously."

"Is _that _why you dressed up?"

Puck glanced down at his outfit. "Well, yeah, Q. All the magazines and papers and shit say you're a real pit bull now. Not that I'm surprised. No baby mama of mine is gonna be nothing short of a badass." He smirked proudly.

But Quinn was still ridiculously confused. "I thought you wanted to talk about Beth."

Puck frowned before he shrugged. "Sure, we can talk about her. But first I really want to talk about my business plan. Now, the dude that owns the restaurant wants to retire. He's a really cool guy and totally wants to sell to me. I got most of the money together and I already have a bunch of improvements planned out and shit. So I really want your opinion. _Even _if you don't want to invest, I'd really like to hear what you think." Quinn was biting her lip as she stared down at the mess of papers. "So…what do you think?" Puck asked nervously.

"What do I think." Quinn breathed out as she picked up the first stack of papers. She blew out a breath that fluttered her bangs before she twisted her lips in preparation.

She read every one.

Puck sipped on beer and darted his eyes between the multiple sports games going on around the bar as Quinn read. And read. And read. It was getting late, but she kept reading.

"Okay," Quinn sighed as she dropped the final paper. Puck dragged his attention away from the sports highlight reels as Quinn rolled her neck and cracked her sore back. "You see this?" She asked as she pointed to the floor design of the restaurant. "This won't work. It's a good idea, but when the place gets busy, it'll be too congested. What you want to do is knock down this wall and expand the bar—what?" Quinn suddenly asked when she noticed Puck's wide smile.

"Nothing, Q. Keep going." He smiled fondly. She spared him a long look before ducking back down to the blueprints.

By the time last call was shouted out around the bar, Puck's legal notepad was loaded with their combined ideas in his chicken scratch. "…What you want to try and create is a mix between family cooking and a unique atmosphere. If you have that, then you'll do really well, Puck."

"So you're in?" He asked tentatively. Puck knew that Quinn would help, even if it was only in some small way. But would she invest? "I mean," he went on quickly, covering up Quinn's silence. "I know that you probably want to talk to Rach first and think about it. Just…just think about it, okay, because I really think that if-"

"We're in, Puck." Quinn stated evenly as her lips quirked.

"You're…"

"We're in."

"But…but don't you want to talk to Rachel first or something? Or wait until I finish school or…or…"

"If Rachel were here, she would have said yes before she even read anything. The answer is yes, Puck, we're in. I'll write you a check."

Puck blinked a half dozen times as he stared blankly at Quinn. She pulled out her checkbook calmly and her elegant hand flew across the small page. Puck swallowed hard, his eyes large saucers, as she ripped the check off and handed it to him. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." She answered as she leaned back in her chair.

"Is this because you gave up Beth and strung me along in high school, all while being a huge lez for Rachel?" He asked with narrowed, confused eyes.

Quinn chucked as she bit down on her straw. "It's because it's a sound plan and a good investment, Puck. Don't give me a reason to cancel it." She said as she smiled softly.

When they arrived outside Quinn and Rachel's apartment, Puck was still staring down at the check in bewilderment. In all honesty, it wasn't _that _great of an investment on paper, but Quinn had a feeling that Puck would do amazing things with it.

"Tell Rach I said thanks, okay?" Quinn nodded as she leaned against the doorframe.

"You better get going or you're going to miss your train."

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd actually _read _all those papers. I missed my school bus back." Puck said with fake aggression. Quinn only chuckled. "We didn't get a chance to talk about Beth." Puck whispered as he glanced down.

"We will. I'll have some business in Lima. We'll meet up."

"Yeah," Puck nodded. "I'll take you to the city and show you the place."

"It was nice, Puck. I had a good time."

"Better than the plans you canceled?" Puck asked with a smirk.

"Not even a little." Quinn chuckled as she shook her head. "But it was still nice."

"We'll talk soon?"

"You bet your ass, Puckerman; you have my money now. We'll have _regular _correspondences"

"Sounds good, baby mama." Quinn only rolled her eyes affectionately before giving Puck a quick hug.

"See ya, Puck."

"Soon, Q."

"Soon." She smiled before jamming her key into the lock. But before she could turn the knob, however, the door flung open to reveal an irate Rachel, both hands on her hips, and her short stature seemingly towering.

"And _where _have you two been? Hmm? _Hmm_m?" Puck and Quinn traded smothered smiles before Puck stepped forward, hands in his pockets, and leaned down to peck Rachel on the cheek.

"Thanks, Rach. You were a badass Jew tonight. Made me proud." He offered Quinn one more smile before he left.

Rachel stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what just happened and why neither Puck nor Quinn had seemed intimated—she had practiced that line for hours in front of the mirror—before she huffed and stomped her foot. She could hear Quinn chuckling as her wife moved to the bedroom.

"You better watch your back, Puckerman!" Rachel shouted down the hall before she shut the front door.

Quinn was unchanging and Rachel watched her as she stood in the doorway of their bedroom. "And how was your night, superstar? Puck told me that the kids wouldn't shut up about you on the bus ride here."

"I demand to know at _once _what kept you so late!" Rachel said as she crossed her arms over her chest. "And, yes, they loved me." She quickly added.

Quinn slipped into her silk camisole and smiled at Rachel. "You're sexy when you're jealous." Quinn purred as she moved across the room toward her wife.

Rachel's arms dropped to her sides as she shifted where she stood, suddenly not so angry. Not like she ever really _had _been. She just didn't like to be left out. If Puck and Quinn had been discussing Beth, Rachel wanted to be there, too, holding Quinn's hand in case her wife got emotional.

Quinn pushed Rachel's long hair behind her ears and smiled down at her. "He had a business proposition for us. I merely heard him out. We are now the proud investors of _Puck's Bar-Be-Que_."

"Well _I _would've wanted to hear it!" Rachel pouted as she stared up at her wife.

"And you will. But now's the time when all good diva's go to bed." Quinn smirked.

Rachel huffed quietly, but took Quinn's hand regardless as she was led to bed. "Well at least we'll get to be together tomorrow. The theatre's dark for that benefit that Ainsley and Charlene's friend is throwing and then it's time for the sex." Rachel said as she crawled into bed.

"I _really _don't feel like going tomorrow." Quinn groaned as she rolled into Rachel, ducking her head on her wife's shoulder.

Rachel kissed the top of Quinn's head and smiled. "But you have so many people you need to speak with. My little working girl." Rachel sighed.

"Or something that _doesn't _make me sound like I'm Vivian Ward." Quinn said through a yawn.

The lights were out, and they were both comfortably snuggled up in bed together, and Quinn was moments away from dropping off. "We could always reenact a few scenes from the movie if you would so be inclined?"

Quinn just chuckle vigorously against Rachel's neck.

X

_Prove it…_

Rachel's back thudded hard against the bathroom stall where the benefit was being held, as Quinn's hands immediately set to work on hiking up her wife's long dress through wet, heated kisses. Her moan erupted deep within her throat as Quinn's hands slid to her ass, and she dropped to her knees in front of Rachel. "Oh, this is so bad, this is _so_ bad. We shouldn't be doing this here." She moaned again.

"I can't stop." Quinn replied urgently as she sucked loudly on the skin of Rachel's inner thighs.

"You can't stop." Rachel groaned out as she fisted Quinn's hair.

"_Fuck_, I'm not stopping." Quinn cried out as she continued kissing, all while keeping her eyes firmly on Rachel's naked sex. "And I love waxes." She mumbled as her kisses got higher.

At Quinn's words, Rachel's eyes went wide, and she was suddenly yanking on Quinn's hair. "What the _hell_-"

The words died in Quinn's mouth as Rachel shoved her wife on top of the toilet seat. The roles were reversed, now, and Rachel was on her knees as she yanked Quinn's dress up around her wife's waist. "_Oh_, sweet reprieve!" Rachel gushed at the sight of Quinn's wet pussy. "Great, merciful state of execution!" Dropped from her lips as she bit down on Quinn's thigh. "Lovely, _lovely_…" She continued to mumble as Quinn's head dropped back against the wall behind her, her fingers slithering into Rachel's long hair.

"_Rachel_, baby, I don't need to hear your pre-planned monologue, just suck me." Quinn whimpered out as she feverishly licked her lips in between gasps.

Rachel moaned excessively at the command and spread Quinn's thighs wider apart. "I don't even _know_ what I want to do first." She whispered with a pained groan. Each sound Rachel made unraveled Quinn further, and she used her leverage to drag Rachel up onto her lap.

"Ride me first." Quinn husked out. Ever since the lap dance, Quinn wanted nothing more than to feel Rachel's naked body grinding against her own. No barriers. No restrictions.

Again, Quinn's wording choice was spurring Rachel on spectacularly. She lifted her own dress up around her waist before flinging her arms around Quinn's neck to stabilize herself. "We're doing this." She mumbled before latching her lips onto Quinn's. Quinn's nodded back through the kiss, plunging her tongue down Rachel's throat as she felt her wife slide up closer to her own sex, leaving a trail of extreme wetness on her thigh.

"_Fuck_, that's hot." Quinn mumbled as she blindly unzipped the back of Rachel's dress and pushed down until her wife's breasts were exposed.

The angle was awkward. But they just wanted to feel each other. Desperately. Quinn's hands seized Rachel's ass as their eyes locked. They stared intently at one another for a long moment as they breathed loudly, before Quinn's hands pushed Rachel against her.

"OH, _God, _I'm going to be loud!" Rachel cried out as she dropped her forehead to Quinn's shoulder. She felt Quinn's racing heart beat wildly against her own and rocked forward again, this time, with great results.

"_Jesus, yes._"

"_Quinn_!"

"We're coming and then we're getting the _hell_ out of here." Quinn hissed and moaned. Rachel only nodded through rattled breaths as she continued to rock her soaked pussy against Quinn's. "And we're never going to stop—_fuuuck, yesss, Rachel_—having sex!"

The feel of their lips rubbing as they kissed sloppily made both girls spasm hard. It only happened by miracle every once and a while, but it was enough. It felt _so _good, in fact, that when the bathroom door opened, their girls didn't stop their frantic pace.

They panted in one other's ear as they slid and glided against their wetness. Distantly, as though they were under water, they heard the soft conversation of two women. But they were far too gone to care.

Quinn squeezed Rachel's ass rhythmically as she watched her wife's breasts sway and bounce. Dirty thoughts raced through her mind quickly as she planned what else she longed to try on Rachel.

"Look at me, Quinn." Rachel breathed out against her wife's ear. Quinn gazed up at her, and they stared, ardently, as their thrusts became chaotic and fervent.

Quinn noticed that Rachel's bottom lip was raw as her wife's teeth continued to grind and chew in desperation. Her whimpers were getting louder, almost noisy, and Quinn wasn't sure how much longer Rachel could hold out from screaming.

"Scream, _Jesus, Rachel_, scream!" Quinn panted out as she felt Rachel's wetness gush and mix with her own.

"_Fuck, Quinn!_" Rachel screamed hoarsely. Even now, Rachel's voice sounded raw. Her wife wasn't even coming yet. The two women who were in the bathroom stopped chatting at once, but Quinn couldn't care.

She had Rachel's naked ass in her hands as her bare breasts swayed in front of her. Quinn felt what this was doing to Rachel, leaving so much wetness on her thigh, and begged her eyes to stay open so she could enjoy ever last second of it. "We need to stop, we need to stop." Rachel repeated over and over again, but not stilling her rocking.

Crude, dirty things were seconds away from spilling from Rachel's lips, and she was _positive _she was going to scream each of them.

"No." Quinn panted out, still shifting her body back and forth as she pushed against Rachel's ass. "Rachel, baby, I'm so fucking close. So _fucking _close to coming."

The visual was the final straw, and Rachel sank her teeth into the skin of Quinn's neck as she screamed gutturally. It ripped from her throat and into Quinn's ears, making Quinn's pussy contract and pulsate to the rhythm of Rachel's groans.

Rachel dropped her head against Quinn's shoulder, heaving so hard she felt lightheaded. She felt their combined wetness meet and join and it caused her clit to twitch and spasm.

Through rough, erratic pants, Quinn steeled herself to continue holding Rachel up. "We need to get the _hell _out of here."

"_Yes_," Rachel gasped back in a throaty rasp. "Preferably, _right_ the fuck now."


	18. Chapter 18 It Happened One Night

Chapter Eighteen: It Happened One Night

"Okay, so you leave first and I'll be _right_ behind you."

"_No. You _leave first and I'll be right behind _you_."

"I'm not going out there first, _Rachel_."

"_You_ weren't the one screaming, _Quinn_. You go out there first!"

"This is _humiliating_ and I'm not going out there!"

"Fine, we'll just stay in here until the benefit is over, well past midnight, and sneak out." Quinn's eyes narrowed as she stared determinedly down at her wife inside the bathroom stall. Rachel's arms were folded against her chest with an air of indifference on her face.

"Fine." Quinn responded with a shrug and crossed her arms. They continued to only stare at one another until the sounds of the two women still in the bathroom starting gossiping softly.

"This is _ridiculous _Quinn!" Rachel whispered heatedly back as her hands snapped to her hips and she stomped her foot. "I demand that you go out there at _once _and save me the embarrassing fate of confronting those two women!"

"And why should _I _be the one to do it?" Quinn whispered back in a hiss.

"Because, _you're_ the one that brought me to a screaming orgasm and—_oh_, don't look so smug, Quinn Fabray! Now go out there and steer those women back towards the ballroom so I can make a gracious escape! _I'm _the celebrity here! It's much more humiliating for me!" Quinn didn't look amused, so Rachel quickly revised her plan. "_And…" _

Quinn's eyebrow quirked dramatically as Rachel sauntered closer to her, a sexy smirk on her lips as she batted her lashes at her wife. "The faster we get out of here the faster we can be back home. By all accounts, where more screaming orgasms can take place."

Their eyes met in a silent war as the air snapped and crackled around them. Both their chests were heaving as the mental images flashed through their heads and the space between them appeared to vanish. Rachel found herself being cornered between the bathroom wall and Quinn as her wife looked down at her hungrily. "Tell me _again_." Quinn whispered in a purr.

Rachel was breathless and she felt her throat tighten as Quinn pressed her body against hers. "Tell you—_heh hem_—tell you what again?" Rachel whimpered back in a raspy voice. Her throat felt coarse and raw from screaming.

Quinn leaned down and ran her nose up the length of Rachel's neck until her lips were beside Rachel's ear. "Tell me again what I did to you."

As Quinn's hands went to the small of Rachel's back, Rachel unknowingly was raking her nails through her wife's hair to keep Quinn lips close to her neck. "Brought me to a screaming orgasm?" Rachel husked out desperately.

"Hmmhmm. That's right, Berry. I did. And if you want me to do it again, I suggest you go out there first."

Quinn's back was suddenly slammed against the opposite wall, and she stared down at Rachel in a daze as her wife peered up at her with determination and lust. "If you ever want the opportunity to make love to me, I suggest _you _go out there first. Protect your wife and you client, Fabray!" Quinn was trying to keep up with Rachel's frantic pace; kissing her wife with renewed passion that made flashes of their very first kiss race through her mind.

But, somehow, that did the trick. Not the idea of Rachel withholding sex—Quinn knew that Rachel wouldn't be able to make good on that threat, and not the kiss. Nor was the word client. But wife. Quinn felt the shift in her as she pulled away from Rachel's lips and leaned down until their noses were touching. "I want a raise. You don't pay me enough to deal with things like this."

Rachel smiled widely as she gazed up at Quinn. "I wasn't aware that I was paying you at all."

"Well you better start coming up with ways to do just that."

Rachel smiled innocently as she stared up at her steely wife. "I'll get started on it immediately."

"You bet you will." Quinn mumbled as she stood up straight. She took a deep cleansing breath and rolled her shoulders as she felt herself already blushing and went to unlatch the door.

"Good luck!" Rachel chipped behind her. Quinn rolled her eyes at her wife over her shoulder before opening the stall door to confront the two women by the red basin sinks. Their eyes found Quinn's in the mirror before exchanging intrigued glances with matching smirks.

Quinn did her best to appear unaffected by their persistent gossiping as she approached a vacant sink. She cleared her throat and began washing her hands with an air of superiority she had perfected in high school. And it worked. Until she noticed the women's expressions.

Bitchy she could handle. Disgust, fine. A struggle of dominance, not a problem. What Quinn _wasn't _expecting, was how the women took turns smiling and batting their eyelashes her way in, what Quinn assumed, was a flirty nature.

Quinn's eyes narrowed as she returned her gaze back on her own reflection, completely confused. "Ms. Fabray. Colleen Montgomery. Pleasure to finally meet you." Quinn stared down at the offered manicured hand blankly before she finally accepted it.

"Charmed." Quinn offered in a clipped tone as her eyes flicked to the other woman and she stood to her full height. They were both bottle blondes and exactly who you'd expect to attend a grand New York benefit.

"Silvia Breay." The other simpered as she limply held out her hand. Quinn had a few inches on both women, and she stared down at them in bewilderment—_Why are they staring at me like that?_

But Quinn got her bearings quickly and responded. "A Pleasure."

"I was just telling Sil that I wanted to finally meet you. You hear so much about the industry nowadays and it's difficult to discern fact from fiction. It's nice to meet people in the…flesh?" Colleen flirted as she ran a finger down Quinn's forearm. Quinn's hazel eyes were threatening to bulge, but she kept it together and allowed the two women to encroach further on her personal space. She did _not _like that.

"Now, Col," Silvia reproached as she flicked her friend's hand away from Quinn's arm. "You're embarrassing the girl."

"I'm not embarrassing you, am I, sweetie?" Quinn offered the woman a placating smile that held the warmth of an iceberg. It was the best she could do to silently show the women she wasn't interested. Internally, however, Quinn was freaking the fuck out, and she was pretty sure she was blushing beautifully. It was one thing for perverted high school boys to fawn over you. Or gross business men who dated women their daughter's age. It was quite another to stumble upon two cougars in the bathroom at a benefit where you just got down and dirty with your wife. Rachel's advances she could appreciate, but she had never been so obviously flitted with by another woman, never mind two at the same time.

But the names Montgomery and Breay rang loud bells in Quinn's head, and she was _pretty _sure that they were the wives of two prominent producers on Broadway.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it! _

_How the _hell _do you be bitchy to women hitting on you without being bitchy?_

_Ew, how the hell do you leave the house wearing those tacky clothes? _

_Because _that's _the point right now?_

Silvia's gaze was directed to the stall Quinn had just exited out of before smirking back at Quinn. "Trouble in paradise?"

"I'm sorry?" Quinn questioned with more than a hint of attitude.

"Sil's just asking whether or not you needed a minute away from the misuses?"

Quinn was still confused. Both women smiled at her with expressions of haughtiness. "It's fine, Ms. Fabray. _We _understand." They chuckled to each other before eyeing Quinn as though she were fresh meat. Neither woman thought for a second that Quinn's _wife_ was who she had just managed to pleasure so spectacularly in the bathroom stall. At big New York benefits, it wasn't a rare occurrence to see two people slink away from the crowd to get to know one another. They were never with the person they had arrived with. But considering the high-pitched screams were perfectly in-tune, they should have known that it was Rachel Berry.

But no. They were far more interested in the up-and-comer, Quinn Fabray. The fact that she had just brought her female counterpart to screams of euphoria was just the icing on the cake; and they both wanted a piece.

"We know how to keep a secret." Colleen promised as she moved closer to Quinn. "Your secret is safe with us. And perhaps I could take you out for dinner one night and tell you about some _other _secrets I like to keep?"

At the sound of the loud bang, all three women jumped before whipping their necks in the direction of the last bathroom stall. Rachel Berry, head high, chin held in deviance, casually stalked toward the sink farthest away from Quinn and her cougars and began silently washing her hands.

No one spoke as they watched Rachel's progress—she was _thoroughly _washing her hands, taking her time to draw out the dramatics.

"Please tell Tom I said hi, Silvia." Rachel mentioned as she carefully reapplied her lip gloss, slightly hovering over the sink to inspect herself in the mirror.

Down the long row of red sinks in the overly bright bathroom, Silvia stuttered softly at hearing her husband's name as she traded stunned looks with Colleen.

"And Colleen," Rachel mumbled before popping her lips and covering her gloss before dropping it into her purse. "_Do_ have Bill call me. It's been _ages _since we last spoke. When was it, Quinn?"

Quinn licked her lips to cover up her smirk before clearing her throat. "_A Sweetness_ I believe."

"Ah, yes, _A Sweetness._ I really would_ love_ to work with him on his latest project. See he gives Quinn a call."

"Sure." Colleen answered back sedately.

"Perhaps turning _A Sweetness _into a feature film." Quinn suggested as she turned to Colleen, whose eyes were still downcast. "I don't think it properly got its due."

"What a lovely idea, Quinn." Rachel said with a false smile to the women as she crumbled up the paper towel in her hands and blindly tossed it into the trash. Quinn was very impressed that she actually made it in. "It was a pleasure seeing you both." Rachel said with another wide, fake smile.

Quinn was still struggling to hide her smile as she turned from the women and held out her hand for Rachel to take. But just as Rachel approached her wife, she slowly turned to appraise the two women. "And it's _Misuses _Fabray. Not Miss." She corrected before following Quinn out of the bathroom.

As the pair walked down the long hallway that led to the ballroom area, they were silent in their contemplation. Rachel couldn't believe the gall of the two hags still in the bathroom. When she heard them flirting with Quinn, it didn't even cross her mind _not _to intervene at once…well, as soon as her anger bated to blinding rage. If she had left as soon as they began hitting on Quinn…it was better she had taken the cleansing breaths first.

She held Quinn's hand a little tighter within her own. "You're never allowed to be alone ever again." Rachel grumbled as they walked.

"Agreed." Quinn shivered, still traumatized. "That was ridiculously disturbing. Thank you for rescuing me." Quinn smirked.

Rachel smiled bashfully as she recalled just how brave she had been in the bathroom…and perhaps a tad rude. But the women had deserved it. Quinn caught the smile and grinned wider. "What are the chances I receive a call tomorrow from Bill Montgomery asking me to put you in _A Sweetness _the movie, all because his wife thought it would be a good idea?" Quinn said as they crossed into the ballroom.

"I say it's very likely—to keep our silence. _Brilliant _idea, by the way." Rachel chuckled.

"I quite pleased with my ingeniousness. You starred in _A Sweetness _the play and now you'll star in the movie, thus cementing Rachel Berry into the part for all eternity. For example, the role as Maureen will forever belong to Idina Menzel or Fanny Brice is always Barbra. And soon, Cecile will forever be Rachel Berry."

Because their hands were still connected, when Rachel abruptly stopped, so did Quinn, looking confused. They stood there quietly as Rachel stared up at her wife in wonder. "You remembered?" Rachel asked quietly, still shocked. It was word for word what she had said to Quinn many, many months ago in the kitchen of their apartment. Back when Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray were just two unknowns with a shared lie.

"I have a horrible habit of listening to you when you speak. I'm working on it." Quinn said as her lips twisted slightly. But Rachel appeared as though she hadn't heard the sarcastic joke. And Quinn was suddenly regretting saying it. Because the way Rachel was staring at her was making Quinn's heart race.

They continued to just stare at one another as Rachel's eyes started to mist over. Her throat still felt raw and trying to hold back the sudden rush of emotion was only making it worse. Quinn made her feel extraordinary. They were a team. They worked together flawlessly. They brought out the best in one another and knew just how to handle the worst. Rachel felt the tears sting and was aware of Quinn's hand squeezing her own.

Her throat bobbed tightly as Quinn's brows started to lift in clarity. Rachel loved the way Quinn's eyes expressed everything she was feeling. The strength and subtle vulnerability that shown back. Love. She also saw love. "Quinn-"

"Mrs. Fabray! My, you're a hard woman to track down!" Quinn ripped her gaze away from her wife as she took in the man approaching her swiftly.

"Uh...hello?" Quinn mumbled before her eyes briefly snapped back to Rachel's. She was still staring up at Quinn with so much love, Quinn was almost positive that Rachel had been only a moment away from saying the words Quinn had so longed to hear.

"I was just talking with Ainsley all about you two." The man laughed boisterously. "Tanner Abrams, Mrs. Fabray. A pleasure to meet you." He held out his hand and Quinn again forced her gaze away from Rachel to accept it. He appeared to be a nice man, a tad energetic, but nice. She recognized him as one of the men who had been talking to Ainsley about her just before she and Rachel stole away to the bathroom. "And _such _a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Berry. I'm a huge fan."

Rachel peeled her gaze away from Quinn and smiled broadly at the man as she shook his hand. "The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Abrams." Tanner beamed back before he turned to Quinn.

"I hope I can steal a minute of your time, Mrs. Fabray." Tanner said quickly before he looked over his shoulder anxiously. The sharks were circling, and he was hoping to get his pitch out before they attacked and took the two women away. "I have just one word for you two: Grammy." He raced out.

Quinn gave the man a curious look before glancing back at Rachel, but her wife didn't seem to be listening to Tanner. Instead, she was still staring up at Quinn. Tanner, meanwhile, was smiling as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "I want to get Mrs. Berry into the studio as soon as possible to record the next smash hit! Now's _just _the time to do so...!"

He continued to rattle off thoughts and ideas as Quinn and Rachel stared at one another in a silent communication. Rachel desperately wanted Quinn to dismiss whatever the Tanner man was saying so she could be alone with her wife again. Quinn was battling with herself, trying to figure out how she should handle the situation; what would be best for Rachel?

"Mr. Abrams, I'm going to stop you right there," Quinn finally settled on. "While I think your idea is perfect, it's a bit premature."

Tanner glanced from a stoic Quinn down to an awed Rachel. In truth, Rachel had no idea what Tanner or Quinn had said. She was just gazing up at Quinn in wonder as her wife held her hand and stepped protectively in front of her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn could see several people headed their way, walking with purpose. Her gaze flickered back to the disheartened Tanner, and she graciously smiled. Tanner seemed to think the grin was a good sign, however, Rachel's insides twisted frantically in arousal; knowing that smirk meant Quinn was in power.

Without meaning to, Rachel whimpered quietly as she tucked her body closer to Quinn's. Quinn had heard her and didn't hesitate to wrap her arm around Rachel's waist as she prepared for negotiations—the reason they had even bothered with the benefit to begin with; and it wasn't for the bathroom dalliance.

"But if you're so keen to get Rachel into the studio, perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement." Rachel whimpered again—a mutually beneficial arrangement with Quinn sounded _very _good to her at that moment.

"I'm listening." Tanner prodded; as aware as Quinn that they would have company in the form of other eager producers very soon.

"A client of mine is giving a concert soon before she comes here to record." Quinn paused as she watched Tanner's eyebrows furrow as her listened intently. "If she were able to give another concert here, in New York, say, at Times Square, I think it would really boost sales along with her confidence."

"I-"

But Quinn cut him off, hoping to leave no doubt that her way was the only way. "I'll be away on business early next week and will be back later to start recording. Rachel isn't ready for her own album, but my client is. Be smart and work with me on this and we'll keep you in mind when my wife is ready to make an album of her own. Now if you'll excuse me, I see someone I must speak with. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Abrams."

She was gone before Tanner could even blink. Rachel along with her. Tanner turned around as he watched the appropriately-named pit bull cut through the crowd with her wife pressed tightly up against her back, hands still intertwined. He had no idea what just happened.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Fabray?" Quinn had heard the woman, but her eyes were fixed on the man she so desperately wanted to reach as her checklist of clients flickered in her mind's eye. "Mrs. Fabray, a moment of your time?"

Quinn sighed and tucked Rachel closer to her back and away from the woman before her; she didn't like the way she was eyeing Rachel. "Yes? May I help you?" Quinn asked with as little irritation as possible as her gaze followed the man she wanted to speak with as he moved about the crowded ballroom.

The woman quickly introduced herself and started pleading her case about her plans for Rachel and television. Her spiel was longwinded and boring, and all Quinn could think about was the woman pressed tightly to her. She could feel Rachel nuzzling into the naked skin of her back where her dress didn't cover and occasionally placing soft open-mouthed kisses along her spine as their entwined fingers brushed. Quinn couldn't, in all good consciousness, go to a benefit _just _to write a check and rub against her wife in a bathroom stall, right? She _must _get something_ else_ accomplished.

Soon, the three women were not alone. Two men and another woman approached the TV producer, Quinn, and Rachel. They were all talking at Quinn and Quinn was doing her best to make eye contact with each and appear interested. Rachel made that difficult. Rachel made that very, very difficult.

Quinn's eyes caught her wife's just when one of the men started in on Rachel appearing in a revival of _The King and I_. Quinn had to ask the man to repeat himself because the look in Rachel was giving her was very distracting. "I said that Mrs. Berry should…"

But again, Quinn became distracted. Rachel had licked her lips rather slowly and sensually as she gazed up at Quinn from beneath her eyelashes. "Mr. MaCall, I'll certainly think about it." Quinn replied as she grabbed Rachel's hand. "Mr. Peterman, we'll be in touch about the indie film, and Ms. Moore, I'll see about the blockbuster."

No one noticed that Quinn was giving them the brush-off, and they all began speaking again. Quinn's eyes slid to Rachel, and Rachel gave her wife a smoldering look. "I _want_ you." Quinn's mouth ran dry. Her wife had just mouthed the magic words. Suddenly, all thoughts of working flew out the window. Instead, Quinn sought out the closest exit, lifting herself up on the toes of her heels in order to see over the many people around her. She squeezed Rachel's hand softly and made her move to leave.

"Ms. Kirkpatrick, I would love to have dinner some night next week to further discuss my wife's future in television and also the reality television show that Charlene Swaine and I would like to see develop rather quickly," Quinn held up her hand to stall the woman. "Next week we'll talk; I must be off. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Rachel felt the vibrations of Quinn's voice as she gently rested her head against Quinn's back. Soon, they were moving again. Quinn's strong muscles flexing as she pulled Rachel along with her, protecting her from the many people trying to advance on the girls. Rachel felt safe and loved. "Take me home, Quinn." Rachel whispered by her wife's ear as they quickly moved throughout the ballroom. Quinn doubled her pace.

It didn't take long to find the route, and Quinn was off again with Rachel at her heels. "Next Friday at ten, right, Charlene?" Quinn called out to the woman as she hurriedly whizzed by the woman, too busy avoiding groups of people in an effort to leave the party to seek out Charlene's eyes.

"Just send him over, Quinn." Charlene yelled back with a roguish grin; very aware of both Quinn and Rachel's must-get-home-immediately-or-else-we'll-do-it-right-here expressions.

Quinn smirked as she kept on moving, so close to the exit she could practically taste Rachel.

"Quinn, Mrs. Berry. So good to see you both!" Quinn frozen in place as though she had just hit a wall, and Rachel bounced softly against her back in surprise of their sudden stop. Just the man Quinn wanted to see.

Clark Tinsley leaned down and quickly placed a set of kisses on Quinn's cheeks before bowing his head slightly to accept Rachel's free hand.

"Rachel, you remember Clark Tinsley from Charlene and Ainsley party, correct?" Rachel smiled genially at the man as stroked the skin of Quinn's back. She remembered seeing Clark at the Swaines' party the night that Charlene had told the pair she was a wedding planner.

"Of course, Mr. Tinsley, it's so nice to see you again."

"Likewise. Are you enjoying the benefit?"

Rachel stared up at Quinn as her wife traded pleasantries with the man. She was memorized as Quinn spoke; her hazel eyes shining brightly as she smiled. Since leaving the restroom, Rachel hadn't honestly been able to do anything but stare at her wife in awe.

Quinn looked magnificent. And it wasn't just because she was by far the most beautiful woman in the room. But had everything to do with how at ease she seemed in a room full of people twice her age with twice the experience. How she held onto Rachel like she was protecting something precious. The way her every move made Rachel feel special. She made Rachel feel special. How she could still feel Quinn moving against her thigh—slick with wet heat—

Rachel could practically hear _My Chick Bad _as she watched Quinn work.

She was trying her best to ignore the way Rachel's fingertips glided against her skin. Quinn knew that speaking with Clark about what she wanted for her clients wouldn't take long. Quinn knew the man. They had spoken quite extensively at the Swaines' house-party, and he had offered his services whenever Quinn needed them.

He taught her quite a bit about the Broadway industry. Emailed her scripts in case she was interested. And even met with her a few times to discuss strategy.

Clark Tinsley was a producer that specialized in Broadway revivals. He currently was paying for three different musical staples and wanted to ask him in person if he'd consider working with two of her clients.

"She's the best dancer I've ever seen, Clark. She doesn't have any professional experience, but she picks up dances quickly and she as a great attitude and an endless supply of energy."

Clark was laughing as he held up his hands. "Quinn, you can stop giving me the hard sell. Have her come in any time after the weekend and I'll see if I have a place for her."

Quinn expelled a breath loudly and nodded. "Now who's the other girl you want me to meet with? If you say Rachel Berry you'll make me a very happy man!" They were interrupted for a moment when Clark's partner swooped in to refresh his beverage before leaving Quinn and Clark to their negotiations.

"She has a lovely voice and is also a wonderful dancer. You'd be doing me a huge favor if-"

"Again with the hard sell, Quinn." Clark laughed as he stirred the drink his partner just offered. "I'm going to New Hampshire this weekend with Bradley's family and will be back on Monday. Send them both by."

Quinn breathed out in relief again before smiling. "You're a life saver."

"Any friend of yours and all that." Clark beamed back with a flick of his wrist. "It was great seeing you again and keep in touch. Bradley looks bored so I must go rescue him." More kisses were exchanged between the two and a handshake for Rachel, before Clark was off.

"Santana, Brittany, Mercedes, Sam, Mike, Tina, Lauren, Puck, and Kurt." Rachel heard her wife mumble as she firmly nodded her head, pleased, still making a beeline towards the exit. Rachel noted that Quinn's phone was out and she was quickly texting. Who, Rachel had no idea.

"What about them?" Rachel asked.

Quinn glanced down at Rachel before quickly looking away; staring at Rachel right then would be like looking directly at an eclipse. "I'm done. Everyone is taken care of. We can leave now." Quinn said quickly as she dodged around a group of people and picked up her pace as she hurriedly shut off her phone as put it away.

"Taken care of?"

"Yes." Quinn quickly dragged Rachel out the door and down the steps before hailing down a taxi to take them home.

"So you networked? When did that happen?" Rachel asked curiously with a tilt of her head, not remembering Quinn ever doing anything all night but looking stunning and dominate.

Quinn practically shoved Rachel into the back of the cab before rushing out the directions to their apartment. "Yea." Was all Quinn whispered before her lips were on Rachel's neck.

The cab shot forward, and Rachel was thrown back against seat by the impact. "I-I think you forgot Artie." She all but moaned out. "I don't…remember…hearing you say—_mmmm_—his name.

Quinn buried her fingers into Rachel's hair as she moaned into Rachel's skin. "Maybe if he didn't grab your ass at our wedding I would have remembered him." Quinn mumbled back before directing Rachel's chin toward her so she could suck on her wife's bottom lip.

"Fair enough." Rachel groaned against Quinn's mouth as her wife went back to kissing her neck.

"Mrs. Rachel Berry, is that you?" Rachel's eyes widened as her head spun to the taxi driver. He was beaming at her from the rearview mirror, not at all put out by the fact that Rachel was being attacked by Quinn.

Rachel swallowed thickly as Quinn's hand disappeared under her dress and chuckled awkwardly. "Hello, sir."

"Mrs. Rachel Berry, it _is _you!" He cheered, momentarily removing his hands from the steering wheel to clap excitedly. "I saw you three times in _A Wink and a Nod _and even got a chances to see you in _A Sweetness_! Five times I go to the movies with my wife to watch you in your films!"

"Why _thank _you!" Rachel beamed. "It's always lovely to meet a fan."

"Big, huge fan!"

Quinn didn't seem to realize that her wife was busy talking to the cab driver. She relentlessly sucked on the skin of Rachel's neck while her right hand traveled eagerly up Rachel's thigh, moaning softly and breathing heavily as she did so, picturing where her hand was.

"May I have your audio-graph, please, Mrs. Rachel Berry?"

"Of course you can have my autograph…" Rachel leaned forward and squinted at the name on the taxi driver's certification. "…Neapar!" As Neapar drove with one hand, his other was busy trying to find something for Rachel to write on. Meanwhile, both of Quinn's hands were busy with Rachel.

Rachel jumped a little and braced her hand on the roof of the cab as she felt Quinn's left hand cup her bare hip underneath her long dress while the other hand carved down her thigh. "Quinn, sweetheart, maybe now's not the right-"

"_Shhh_, Rach." Quinn whispered back as she sucked on Rachel's earlobe.

"Found something!" Neapar cheered.

"Just lovely." Rachel breathed out before whimpering, feeling Quinn's hand near her center. "'To Neapar,'" Rachel wrote shakily as Quinn's teeth bit down on her neck and her right hand stroked her stomach up and down before returning to Rachel's hip. "'The best cab driver and the sweetest I've ever met. L-love—_Jesus, Quinn!—_Rachel Berry!' Here you go!"

Rachel thrust the napkin she had signed back to the driver just as Quinn's leg buried itself between both of Rachel's. Her other hand flew to claw in Quinn's hair as her wife fully slipped on top of her. "May you please sing the beautiful song from the closing of _A Wink and a Nod_? It is my favorite of all the songs!" Neapar said, still not registering that Quinn was now fully straddling Rachel with both hands buried underneath her wife's dress.

"I-uh-I would _lo-uh-ove _to, Neapar." Rachel rasped out while Quinn's thumbs stroked the inside of Rachel's thighs. " '_When each day upon the service springs, and each light which 'morrow brings_…'" Rachel was doing her very best, not one to turn down a performance. But her voice was still a little scratchy from the screaming of her earlier orgasm. It didn't help that Quinn was doing everything in her power to make Rachel forget the lyrics to a song that she, up to that point, knew _very _well. The problem was, the more Rachel sang, the more Quinn got into it. She _really _loves Rachel's voice.

It did occur to Rachel that she should probably slap some sense into Quinn; that she should inform her wife that they were in a very public setting, and their actions weren't at all professional. The trouble was Rachel just really didn't want Quinn to stop. Ever. Luckily, as Quinn's thumbs began to part Rachel's very wet lips, Neapar screeched to a halt right in front of the girls' apartment.

"Oh, thank God!" Rachel whimpered and shoved a dazed Quinn off of her. "Thanks, Neapar!" She beamed, passing him way more money than she should have before crawling over Quinn and yanking her wife's hand to follow her out.

"Thank _you_, Mrs. Rachel Berry! I go see more of your shows! Bye Mrs. Rachel Berry's wife!"

Rachel waved for both of them as she dragged Quinn into the apartment building. After hitting the UP button on the elevator fifteen times and not getting any results from the lifts—Quinn was still feasting on every part of Rachel she could touch—Rachel grabbed the bottom of her dress and yanked on Quinn's hand until they were racing up the stairs. "Can't _believe _you were doing that in the cab!" Rachel panted as thoughts of Quinn touching her invaded her mind. "Can't _believe _you didn't actually _do_ anything, either!"

"And you think it's fair that you mouthed what you mouthed to me while I was trying to do business? Rachel, I could barely _think_!" Quinn hissed back as she scaled the flights of all while staring at Rachel's ass, trying not to fall over as her wife pulled her along a lot quicker than Quinn's heels could go.

Finally on the floor of their apartment, Quinn was surprised when her back collided with the wall. "When you say my name," Rachel moaned as she pressed her body to Quinn's. "Like your rolling the R," Quinn's head fell back against the wall with a groan as Rachel's hands snaked their way up the bodice of Quinn's dress. "And the hard _CH_ you use," A soft "_Fuck_" fell from Quinn's lips. "It drives me crazy inside. Always has, Quinn. Always." Rachel said, the word getting caught in her throat as she felt Quinn shiver underneath her hands.

Quinn's eyes were shut tight, but when she bent down, her lips magically found Rachel's in a slow, torturous kiss. Both their mouths were open, allowing their tongues to touch tentatively before Quinn was sucking on Rachel's bottom lip reverently. She cupped Rachel's face to keep in her place as she continued to stroke her wife's tongue with her own. Rachel's hands ran up Quinn's torso and behind her neck as she stretched to deepen the kiss further; sucking on Quinn's tongue before diving into her mouth. They both moaned deeply until Rachel was pulling Quinn towards the door that led to the hallway, still kissing.

They managed not to stumble much and made it to their front door too consumed in one another to notice that their neighbor, Mrs. Landry, was tugging her dogs into her apartment and shaking her head at the couple, or Jesse St. James sitting on the floor and frowning up at them.

"You were supposed to pick me up from the airport." Behind Rachel's back, Quinn waved the boy away as though he were an annoying fly, as she continued to hungrily kiss her wife. "Hello? You were supposed to pick me up from the airport!" Jess said as she jumped to his feet.

Rachel neither noticed nor cared that her friend was present, but instead, pulled away from Quinn and smiled up at her as she retreated backwards to their door. She unlocked it and slipped inside, still smiling shyly at Quinn, before closing it softly.

Quinn was breathing hard, eyes trained on the door, before she turned sharply to Jesse. "What the hell are you doing here, _leave_!"

"You forgot to pick me up from the airport." He frowned, arms across his chest.

"When the hell did I ever tell you I'd do that?"

"I didn't ask you to do that?" He asked, face scrunched up in confusion.

"_No_! Now leave!" Quinn brushed past him and made her way towards the door, but his hand on her arms stopped her.

"But I told you that I'm between apartments, you said I could crash." Quinn's eyes widened dramatically as her eyebrows shot up.

"When the _hell _did I say that? I would _never _agree to that!"

"Fine, maybe I forgot to ask, but where am I going to stay?"

Quinn's eyes slid to the closed door before she huffed and fumbled with her purse. Tutting softly, she pulled out her credit card and slammed it against Jesse's chest. "Here, I don't care where you stay or how much you spend as long as you're gone in the next second."

Jesse smiled broadly as he held the card up. "Why should I leave? Why can't I stay and watch a movie or something."

"Oh, you're freaking hilarious, St. James, now get out of here!"

"But I haven't seen you guys in forever!" Quinn growled and advanced on the boy, but he held his ground. The truth of the matter was Jesse was eager to leave. It was a Thursday night, and if what he thought was about to happen between Quinn and Rachel was _actually_ about to happen, that meant that he'd win the bet; they were _finally _going to consummate their relationship. But that didn't mean he couldn't give Quinn a hard time.

"Jesse, we'll see you another time." Quinn said as she went for the doorknob.

"But what about now?"

"Oh my, God! Are you kidding me?"

"Fine, fine, fine, I'll leave."

"Thank you!"

"On one condition." Quinn scoffed and, again, went to open the door. "I'll just keep ringing the doorbell all night." He threatened in a sing-song voice.

Quinn's eyes slammed shut and she chuckled darkly. "What do you want, St. James?"

Jesse smirked. "I no longer have to call you Mrs. Fabray."

"Fine, whatever. Now _leave_."

Jesse smiled again and shook the credit card. "Thanks, Quinn!" She rolled eyes and went to open the door and was stopped for a third time. Quinn bit down on the bottom lip hard to prevent herself from killing Jesse as she turned around to face him.

"_What?_"

But to her amazement, Jesse wasn't smiling; he looked rather serious. "Be good to her, Quinn."

"Oh my, God!" Quinn mumbled as she rolled her eyes. "Jesse, leave; we'll call you tomorrow."

"Lunch?" He asked excitedly.

"Bye, Jesse." She grumbled, trying not to smile as she went inside. Jesse smirked and whipped out his cell; _very _happy to let Jeremy and Lydia know about the latest development, before he hurriedly left.

Once inside the apartment it occurred to Quinn what was about to take place. Jesse had been a brief distraction, but now that she was standing in the living room, the apartment still dark, and Rachel's sexy mouth not on hers, it hit Quinn with a staggering force.

She could just make out the flickering lights from underneath the bedroom door, which signified candles. _Rachel lit candles_. Quinn swallowed thickly as she blindly placed her purse on the kitchen table and stepped out of her heels quietly. She removed the diamond earrings and tennis bracelet, eyes still fixed to the bedroom door, and let her hair spill around her shoulders. Quinn barely breathed. She left on her diamond ring and wedding band and slowly made her way toward the door, not noticing her trembling hands.

There was no sound from the bedroom. Quinn placed her forehead against the door as she listened to the silence, hardly daring to believe that on the other side was Rachel. Waiting for her. Waiting to make love. To finally express physically how they felt.

Quinn licked her lips and turned the doorknob as her heart beat wildly against her chest. She never felt so nervous in all her life. Every sense seemed to be extinguished as she slipped into the dark room; she had been right, Rachel had lit candles, but she felt as though she had tunnel vision—not really seeing a thing.

The only sound in the room was the sizzling of the candle wicks as they swayed, and Quinn felt like she stood in the doorframe for hours staring at them. She wanted to look over at the bed, but she knew that Rachel would be lying there, waiting for her, looking gorgeous and oh, so flawless that Quinn would shatter.

She only needed a moment. Just a few seconds to catch up. Because suddenly it didn't just feel like physically expressing their feelings—just _expressing _them. She would fall apart around Rachel Berry's lips and hands and legs and heat and she'd kiss Rachel with love and every emotion she's ever felt for her. Quinn felt as though she just might cry. The sheer, beautiful relief of it all.

Rachel watched Quinn and knew that she should stay quiet. She knew that everything was about to change, once again, and this time there would be no going back. Rachel was okay with that. She didn't want to go back. But what she did want was a moment to freeze-frame everything she was feeling as she stared at the woman that made falling in love the most graceful thing one can do. Elegant and effortless.

She looked at Quinn and saw desperation; just as she did in cab and at the benefit. This was a different kind of desperation, however. This was the realization that they were going to do something that far surpassed every encounter before. And it wasn't just because they'd be making love. They would, perhaps, awkwardly fumble through their love making. But the intimacy that was about to happen would be easy. Quinn, standing there with her arms at her sides, hip cocked, as she rested one bare foot against the other. Quinn's nervous stance, Rachel observed warmly.

When she was sure that Quinn had had her moment, Rachel slowly scooted down to the foot of the bed—her legs sliding against the sheets—and softly placed her feet on the floor. With the tips of her fingers, Rachel touched the backs of Quinn's legs and skimmed higher as she drawled Quinn closer. Quinn went willingly until she stood in between Rachel's parted thighs and finally brought her gaze down to her wife.

"Oh_, God_." Quinn breathed out in adoring agony as her eyes met Rachel's. Rachel was looking up at her from beneath her eyelashes with such love and desire that Quinn starting shaking as she threaded her fingers into Rachel's long, wavy hair, needing to touch her. She blew out a deep breath as her eyes slid shut and she bent down when the pressure on the backs of her thighs pushed her nearer to Rachel. Quinn blindly leaned forward until her and Rachel's foreheads touched lightly, and all she felt was the feather-light brushes from the pads of Rachel's fingers dancing on her skin.

She couldn't shatter yet. It was far too soon. Rachel, touching her softly underneath her long, champagne-colored dress—making the silk feel course in comparison to Rachel's caress. Quinn slowly let her eyes flutter open and glanced down to meet Rachel's stare.

She swallowed with difficulty as let her gaze glide down past Rachel's neck to see the soft pink, sheer negligee that seemed to fall gracefully to her thigh, just covering the matching panties. It was so understated in its beauty, its softness. When Quinn looked up again, Rachel's breathing was shallow as she continued to stare at Quinn, her expressive dark, eyes swirling.

Rachel softly rubbed the backs of Quinn's thighs before running her hands down her wife's legs and up again. She couldn't pull her gaze away from Quinn as she watched each touch and caress play across Quinn's gorgeous face. Each time Quinn's eyes would flicker closed, her eyebrows would crease, and her lips would tremble slightly.

With more pressure, Rachel guided Quinn until they were flush against one another, foreheads still connected, and Rachel's hands continuing their torment. She delicately linked her long legs around Quinn's ankles as her hands swept them over Quinn's ass until they were softly pressing against the small of her back.

A light gasp flurried from Quinn's lips as she tilted and ducked her head to breathe against Rachel's mouth. She felt Rachel knead her back with more intent and moved closer, barely touching Rachel's lips until she felt them slide against her own. Once, twice, until Rachel was swallowing Quinn's top lip between her own and her hands were racing up Quinn's back pushing her even closer with a loud moan as she arched off the bed.

Rachel couldn't keep her hands still. As she sucked on Quinn's tongue, her hands once again cupped Quinn's ass, squeezing, before her fingers glided around to stroke Quinn's quiver stomach beneath her dress and drop down to hold her wife's hips, fingering the panties she found there. Quinn plunged her tongue deeply into Rachel's mouth, panting hard as each caress of Rachel's fingers sent bolts of arousal to her wet center. She shifted on the spot, spreading her legs slightly, and Rachel took the hint and raced a hand down until she was cupping Quinn over her wife's panties.

Quinn moaned deep in her throat as her eyes slammed shut. Rachel, holding her there, knowing what she was doing to Quinn, made Quinn instantly soak further. She wanted Rachel to know how much she turned her on. How much she wanted her wife. Quinn spread her legs a little farther, hoping Rachel could feel it all.

Rachel gulped heavily as the heat and moisture coming from Quinn coating her hand. Her heart pounded at the answering rhythm that came within her palm. She felt the trickle of yet another answer between her own thighs. They panted against each other's mouths for a moment while they reeled in their overwhelming need, everything else freezing.

To both, the importance of the moment weighed greatly. They felt it as their lips slide and tongues touching, their bodies bowing, and they pressed closer. Quinn's fingers threaded deeper into Rachel's hair until she was guiding her wife down on the bed to lie on top. Rachel delicately stroked Quinn over her panties in a slow, careful caress that made them both hum.

Rachel could feel Quinn's hard clit licking back as she stroked her. Could feel how hard Quinn was for her, how wet. Her restless hands itched to undress Quinn. Wanted nothing separating her from her love and skirted around until she was gripping the backs of Quinn's thighs, ready to guide the dress up and over Quinn's head.

It was then that they paused. Rachel stared up at Quinn as she gasped for air, silently marveling as Quinn cupped her face and panted right back. "Are we ready for this?" Rachel asked in a hushed voice. Not because she was unsure. And not because she wasn't desperate to feel Quinn. But because Quinn was trembling all over, just as much as she was.

Quinn dropped her head down to Rachel's as their mouths brushed, exhaling loudly and echoing around the room to mix with sounds of the candles. She breathed harshly as she kissed Rachel once, still cradling Rachel's face delicately in her hands. She felt Rachel cling to her back, frantically clutching and releasing her dress, as they shuddered against one another, so still in their joined trembling.

The way Quinn's hair cascaded down her shoulders and traced Rachel's bare arm only made Rachel shake harder. And when Quinn nodded silently, answering Rachel's desperate question, Rachel arched up to meet her wife's lips in a shock of a beginning.

The low whimpers and strangled moans propelled each girl forward until they were sliding to the top of their bed. Rachel's fingertips dug into Quinn's body; just refraining from crushing the girl to her. Their kisses were deep like their touches. A slow frenzied pace. Quinn held tight to the plains of Rachel's jaw and cheeks as her body uncoiled above her wife's. The silk of her dress easily glided up and down Rachel's soft negligee. She felt the yielding, smooth skin of Rachel's long legs rub against hers in a manic charge of want and shifted her hips to press closer to where she felt heat.

Rachel's hands got needy, skimming down the sides of Quinn's unraveling body until she slipped underneath and held tight to Quinn's thighs. She squeezed, feeling Quinn's taut muscles respond, and began pushing and pulling to create friction against her own growing wetness. She could feel it, swelling inside of her, the love that she felt and the enormity of just _looking _at Quinn and how it made everything ache. Lovely waves breaking and crashing down on top of her. And suddenly Rachel couldn't wait another second to have it consume her.

"Quinn?" Quinn heard Rachel's breathy plea and what she was really saying. In that moment it seemed that there was nothing wrong with shattering. And all at once, Quinn broke, only seeing dark brown eyes wide with lust and love.

"I know, Rachel." Their lips connected as they gasped, moving against one another desperately. Their hands never stilled as they gripped and clawed to be closer; Quinn moving urgently to make sense of how immeasurable everything felt. "I know."

Rachel sucked on Quinn's tongue as her fingers fumbled with the zipper of her wife's dress. She slowly peeled down the silk and opened her eyes as her lips brushed Quinn's. They never stopped pushing against one another as Rachel's fingertips guided the dress down Quinn's shoulders and past her waist.

Rachel's mouth immediately went to Quinn's neck, sucking softly as she continued to push down on the dress until Quinn's was shimmying out of it, her body sliding back against Rachel's when the dress was gone. Rachel's palms skimmed up Quinn's naked back and fisted blonde hair as she sunk her teeth into the pale skin of Quinn's shoulder. Her mind was frenzied knowing just how close to complete everything was.

Quinn ducked her head, sucking on Rachel's collarbone and summing the courage to splinter apart for Rachel. She could feel her wife gasp as their hips continued to meet. She could feel Rachel revel in touching her. She could feel the heat radiating from soft pink panties. And when Rachel moaned, gripping Quinn's ass as Quinn nuzzled into the space between her breasts, Quinn only wanted more.

Her hands slid down Rachel's sides and slipped underneath the soft negligee until they were trailing up Rachel's smooth stomach. She breathed in deeply, smelling Rachel's skin at the collarbone as her hands cupped her wife's breasts gently. Rachel rocked her hips harder, driving Quinn into her with each thrust as she let out a strangled moan.

Rachel felt lightheaded as Quinn continued to rub her breasts. They were barely-there touches that only furthered her excitement. She felt her nipples harden considerably and arched off the bed and into Quinn with renewed drive. Rachel breathed into Quinn's ear as she slipped her hands into her wife's panties and squeezed Quinn's ass in encouragement. The return thrust Quinn gave only urged Rachel on. As one hand went back to raking through Quinn's long hair, the other pulled and dragged until Quinn's panties were skating down Quinn's thighs, leaving her wife in only her strapless black bra.

Quinn kicked her panties off and settled back onto Rachel between her thighs, eyes slamming shut and groaning at the feel. With new skin revealed, she licked her lips and glided up Rachel's body so they could kiss. So she could feel even more connected with Rachel. Her hands squeezed Rachel's breasts as she dove her tongue into her wife's mouth, breathing heavily and feeling Rachel's heart beat wilding against her own. Quinn's thumbs brushed over Rachel's hardened nipples, and she marveled at each touch. Quinn moaned harshly as she tugged on Rachel's nipples, squeezing harder before cupping each breasts firmly.

They had been naked in front of each other many times over the past two years. They had kissed intimately. Brought each other to orgasm. And piston one another on with their words—ardent words. But perhaps this time was different merely because it was just them, just the two of them, alone, without somewhere to be or people around the corner to spoil the mood or interrupt. They had the whole night of just each other.

The realization made the air disappear and their bodies tense. It made them pause. Quinn removed her hands from within Rachel's negligee and arched up on the bed, hands on either side of Rachel as she stared down at her wife, not bothering to push down the pink lingerie that was above Rachel's bare breasts. Rachel panted back as she brushed stray hairs away quickly from Quinn's heated face before placing her palms on Quinn's cheeks. Quinn's eyes slid shut at the soft touch, and she pushed off the bed so her lower half would slide and rock against Rachel's.

A soft hiss of, _"Yesss_," slipped from Rachel's lips as she buried them against the soft skin of Quinn's neck. Knowing that Quinn's bare pussy was rubbing against her own wet panties was clouding her mind. With each thrust Rachel could feel Quinn spreading her come. Each movement added to the enormity. Every time she shifted her hips, brushed her center against Quinn's, or spread her legs, even marginally, she felt her own dampness and keened with a racing heart.

Quinn arched her neck as Rachel feasted on it. Their growing moans never wavered and only rolled into the next. Everything felt fuzzy to Quinn and out of focus—in the best way possible. She couldn't grasp fully what was happening, allowing her body and heart to take control. She buried her forehead into the pillow beside Rachel's head and propped herself up on her elbow to allow her other hand to explore.

With the tips of her fingers, Quinn glided up the skin of Rachel's side until she was fondling Rachel's breasts again. She loved the equal pleasure she got from Rachel sucking on her neck and grinding against her with touching Rachel intimately. _Everything _was making her flood. The release of moans, even her own, turned her on.

"I want my mouth on you." Quinn gasped as her hips rocked back and forth against Rachel's. Rachel moaned in response, but didn't remove her hands from the backs of Quinn's thighs. She only pushed harder against the tight muscles, loving the feeling of her own wet clit brushing Quinn's as Quinn straddled her.

When Rachel's only response was continued, heated groans, Quinn dipped her mouth down to wrap around Rachel's puckered nipple. She loosely sucked, only wetting the bud, and slid her teeth down the tip. Rachel's whole body began spasm. She pressed down harder on Quinn's lower back so she could rub herself against Quinn's stomach for relief. When that, too proved not enough, Rachel's hands shot down to remove her panties quickly. Quinn didn't bother to move or help, too caught up sucking on Rachel's dark breasts until they blossomed light-red blotches.

She couldn't stop tasting Rachel's breasts. Quinn wanted to taste it all. She loved the different textures. How soft her cheek felt against the skin and how her rigid tongue glided up and down Rachel's taut nipples, rolling the bud with the tip. Each time a breast would bounce against Quinn's hand, Quinn would moan throatily and picture holding both while Rachel rode her.

Rachel shucked off her panties completely and excitedly slipped her thighs around one of Quinn's. The immediate glide had both girls moaning loudly and cursing, very aware of their considerable wetness being smeared against one another. "This feels _so_ _good_." Rachel panted, sliding her hands down Quinn's naked back until she was cupping Quinn's ass and thrusting her hips to meet Quinn's.

Quinn placed her forehead on Rachel's and stared deeply at her as she continued to rock her hips. She could come. Just like this. Just by looking at Rachel as they pushed and pulled against one another. "Take off my bra." Quinn whined desperately. "I want you to feel all of me. I want to feel _all _of you." She groaned, eyes fluttering shut.

Rachel's hand threaded into Quinn's hair as her clit licked Quinn's thigh. She was happy to just stare at Quinn. Her beautiful Quinn. With her long eyelashes brushing her pink-tinted cheeks as she nibbled on her lip, taking pleasure from each swipe of their bodies. Her eyes raced over Quinn's face as her right hand hastened to undo Quinn's bra. With a fast flick, the bra opened, and Rachel quickly pulled it away before her hand joined the other in Quinn's hair, and she was bringing her wife's lips down to her own in a panicked kiss.

She couldn't imagine another moment not kissing Quinn. They were breathing hard as their lips consumed the others. Swift, frantic kisses as they tried to breathe through their arousal.

Each moan was swallowed and echoed against the others, overlapping as Quinn yanked Rachel's negligee over her head. Quinn sank down between Rachel's thighs to skim her pussy against Rachel's clit as her wife chased her tongue with her own wetly. Quinn held Rachel's breasts in one hand and whimpered against her wife's mouth as Rachel dug her nails in Quinn's ass, propelling their thrusts until their come spread against the others skin and down onto their sheets.

It all felt like too much and not enough and perfect all at once. Their hearts raced to keep time with the other. Beads of sweet grew on their brows as their eyes locked, knowing what came next. Rachel was frantic to feel Quinn dripping in her hand. She wanted to feel what her love for this woman could do. She wanted to feel Quinn envelope her fingers and tongue until the weight of their love became too much.

Rachel softly touched Quinn's face until her wife's dark hazel eyes were staring powerfully at her. The rhythmic canting of their hips continued as Rachel's thumb traced Quinn's full bottom lip until Quinn took it into her mouth and sucked lightly. Rachel leaned forward until their lips brushed, and she took her hand away to slide it down Quinn's chest and cling to her hip.

With a turn of her hand, Rachel's palm was caressing Quinn's stomach between them. She stared up at Quinn until Quinn understood fully. She swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering with desire, until she released Rachel's breasts and glided her hand down to cup Rachel's pussy. She watched Rachel's eyes gaze back at her. She heard Rachel's soft gasps as she held her. And when Rachel moaned forcefully as her hand trailed over Quinn's hipbone and she cupped Quinn, Quinn felt her heart thump wildly as her body shook in relief.

Their lips were slightly parted as they exhaled, eyes locked, as they held each other intimately. They could both feel themselves soaking the other's hand. They could feel the consistent pounding of their other's heart. And they could feel how much they were both loved by their constant stare.

Rachel's middle finger parted Quinn's drenched lips and watched Quinn's eyes slam shut for a moment. Their mouths brushed as Quinn rubbed Rachel's pussy, feeling come exude between her fingers and leaned down to take Rachel's top lip between her own, sucking lightly with an urgent sob. Their eyes found one another as they rocked into the other's hand. Knowing that they had all night to do this and not in a rush to miss a single moment. Everything felt like a catalyst. Their hard nipples rubbed against the other's, and their hips canted. Their moans made them throb and the sight of the other's pleasure made them ache.

Quinn arched her forehead against Rachel's, feeling her wife's finger start to slowly trace the length of her clit and squeezed Rachel's pussy softly with a resounding moan. She licked her lips as she watched Rachel's eyes widen slightly, immersed in her exploration. Nothing had ever felt softer or more erotic to Rachel than the feel of Quinn. The vulnerability in her hand made her chest heave in wonderment and her mouth dropped open further as she felt Quinn spread herself more.

They each conveyed with a single look the magnitude of their feelings. And when Quinn parted Rachel's slit, slipping through Rachel's wetness, Rachel felt her love collapse upon her and shook with its extent. She moaned gutturally against Quinn's mouth, eyes slamming shut, as Quinn began circling her clit. She responded instantly as her fingertip rubbed Quinn with long, firm strokes.

"_Rachel_." Quinn panted hoarsely, trying to wrap her head around the building pleasure from each stroke from Rachel. "_R-ach."_ She choked out.

Each steady lap of Rachel's finger was driving Quinn hips forward. She circled Rachel's swelling clit as they kept pace, staring down at her wife in amazement. Nothing had ever felt so remarkable than watching Rachel touch her. Watching Rachel react to what Quinn was doing to her. The rattling moan that purred from her throat made Rachel whimper and jerk. Quinn could feel Rachel's clit twitch underneath her finger and circled faster, loving the feel of slipping up and down.

Their lips fused together and only separated to gasp and moan. They kissed; eyes open to everything, to regard the other's pleasure. The slick wetness added to every sensation. Quinn felt her pussy clench as she took Rachel's clit between her thumb and forefinger, gently stroking and pinching when her body would jolt.

Rachel's free hand slithered up to press her palm against Quinn's heated cheek. The beauty reflecting back made her heart catch and she knew she could do this forever. She moaned as she leaned up, catching Quinn's lips between her own before sliding her tongue between to brush Quinn's. Over and over again their tongues met. Barely-there touches or wet licks, as their bodies dug into the bed and their pace increased.

"_Quinn_." Rachel whispered, her voice catching. Her wife stared back, forehead to forehead, and felt a tight coil tremor low in her stomach. "_Fuck_, Quinn, _mmmhmm_." Rachel couldn't decide what was better: to have Quinn touching her or to finally be touching Quinn.

Quinn sobbed in reply, the emotion getting caught in her throat and ended with a moan. She rocked against Rachel as she felt her wife's finger circle her opening before sliding back up to flick her pulsating clit repeatedly. Every part of her was shattering around Rachel. "_Rach_." It wasn't a request nor was it a plea. Quinn just needed Rachel to know that she was there with her. Feeling everything her wife felt. She ducked her head and wetly sucked on Rachel's earlobe as she hummed her encouragement. "_Fuck_, Rach, this feels so good…_being_ with you." She breathed out.

Rachel whimpered and turned Quinn by the chin until they were kissing again. She clawed down Quinn's collarbone until she was cupping Quinn's breasts tightly in her hand, too aware of the way her clit would spasm.

She swiped Quinn's clit up and down headily before parting Quinn's slit. With only the tip of her finger, Rachel entered Quinn, sliding in and out as she panted against Quinn's mouth.

Quinn moaned, almost feeling whole at the sensation of Rachel within her. She looked down into dark brown eyes and knew Rachel was waiting for her.

Quinn finger circled around Rachel's wetness, rubbing her swollen clit in fast strokes. She felt her own walls clamp around Rachel's finger and slipped down to Rachel's opening. Their labored breathing seemed only to magnify as they stared at one another, bodies humming.

She slid into Rachel slowly, moaning at the impossibly tight feel. Rachel's eyes shut briefly before watching Quinn as she moved into her. She felt Quinn flutter around her finger and squeezed the finger within her in response.

"I want to do this…together." Quinn whispered, unable to look away from Rachel's fathomless eyes. Rachel nodded swiftly, incapable of finding her voice as she looked back at Quinn imploringly. The knowledge that she was making love to Quinn made her chest constrict until she felt something break away; something she didn't even know was still there.

With a long, drawn-out moan, Rachel pushed slowly and deeply into Quinn to the knuckle. The answering flurry around her finger made Rachel gasp, but before she could recover, Quinn drove into her. "Oh, God." Rachel whimpered in a breath. Immediately responding by sliding deliberately out before thrusting back in, Quinn's tightness keeping her trapped.

Quinn's hips rotated and moved with Rachel's hand, surging back and forth as her finger plunged into Rachel, swimming inside her with short, shallow thrusts until she sought deeper, walls clamping around her. "I never felt…so…_Rach._" Quinn's strangled cry made Rachel move faster. She brushed back Quinn's hair with the hand cupping her wife's cheek, not wanting to miss a single expression on her flawless face as they rocked.

She leaned forward, needing to kiss Rachel. Even if they could barely breathe through their gasps. Quinn lowered her body completely, removing the hand cupping her face to thread their fingers. With effort, she pushed into Rachel harder, surging forward through the tight opening as she guided their joined hands over Rachel's head.

Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand as she squeezed the finger within her. Each movement from Quinn sent her reeling. She could feel her walls sucking Quinn in with every pass, and her hips quickened.

Quinn looked down at Rachel, her eyes clouded. She loved her. She wanted her so badly. The gigantic need in her kept getting sated and satisfied with each trust inside Rachel until she was starving again. "Can you take more?" Quinn breathed out against Rachel mouth, her body urging forward keeping pace with the finger in Rachel's pussy.

Wanting to be consumed, Rachel only nodded back with large eyes. She pictured Quinn stretching her and fucking her fully. Two long, pale fingers making her scream as she drenched Quinn's hand. She pictured doing the same to Quinn. Watching the woman above her sob through her orgasm as she rocked two fingers snugly into her. It all became too much.

Rachel squeezed the hand in her own and used her legs to twist Quinn's waist until hazel eyes were blinking up at her. Keeping her finger inside Quinn's pussy, she slowly pulled away from Quinn's finger until her walls were clamping down unrewardingly. Quinn's chest rose and fell dramatically as she waited, her wet finger hovering, waiting until she could fill Rachel again.

She stared down at Quinn, their hands still joined now over Quinn's head on their pillow, and took in the gorgeous sight. Quinn, completely naked and laid out for Rachel, legs spread to accommodate the unmoving finger buried within her, blushing breasts heaving, red, swollen lips, blonde hair splattered across their pillow. "_God, _I _need _you." Rachel groaned, slithering her body along Quinn's until her tongue was slipping into Quinn's mouth.

Rachel felt Quinn's finger twitch against her clit, eager to enter. With one more press of her lips to Quinn's she sat back up until she was perched over Quinn's wet finger and sank down. "Ohmygod." Quinn rushed out, watching Rachel rise and fall, her pussy wrapping around her finger. She released the hand in her own and grasped at Rachel's hip, digging her nails into the dark skin to lower Rachel down and up again.

"_Two_, Quinn." Rachel moaned out, eyes rolling back. Quinn swallowed thickly, racing over every detail of Rachel's body and slid another finger up just in time for Rachel to plunge down on it.

"Holy sh-_it_." Quinn groaned out, gliding her hand around to cup Rachel ass. Rachel collapsed down onto Quinn, thrusting forward as her walls sucked Quinn's fingers begging for more. "_God, _fuck me, Rach." Quinn choked out, needing to feel the mirroring pleasure she was giving her wife.

Rachel moaned unevenly, each one hitching in her throat. Quinn's request made her feel dizzy. Her toes dug into the bed as she thrust harder against Quinn, her pussy flooding. She slid out of Quinn carefully, just the drenched tip wiggling inside, until she shoved deep into Quinn.

Quinn whimpered loudly, biting her lip as she continued to finger Rachel hard. Her neck arched off the pillow, Rachel matching her speed, until two wet fingers were plunging into her as well. Her walls would spasm irregularly, so wet and welcoming to the new resistance that was being constricted tightly.

Rachel stuffed her fingers into Quinn, over and over again, never feeling anything so tight yet yielding before it was making her faint. The growing wetness seeping from Quinn made her push through the burn in her arm, frantic to show Quinn what she was so desperate for.

Quinn's neck arced until her lips were beside Rachel's ear, puffing erratically. She could hardly stand all the emotions and gratification. Just like every other time with Rachel, Quinn felt as though nothing was a boundary. The confidence to ask and demand planted long ago, and each time Rachel would rock into her, two fingers trying to go deeper and deeper with each pass, threading through immense wetness, Quinn became bolder the closer her orgasm drew. She wanted it all, and she _would _get it all.

"_Rach_," Quinn panted in a hiss of air, tying not to forget the request her body so badly wanted.

Rachel looked down at Quinn and followed her wife's gaze until they were both staring at Rachel's bouncing breasts. "_Fuck_." Rachel sobbed, feeding off Quinn's desire for her. She leaned forward and could only gasp in surprised as she felt Quinn's mouth latch on to her left nipple.

The added stimulation was making her gush between Quinn's fingers. The way Quinn's hot mouth would suck and then bite, all while thrusting with fast, frantic strokes with her fingers before curling and gliding against her walls, searching.

Rachel felt hot everywhere. Her orgasm was thundering towards her to rapidly that she could hardly breathe. As best she could, Rachel glanced down, just making out Quinn's cheeks hollowing as she sucked on her nipple, and lower, to where their bodies slammed into each other.

The blood was pounding in Quinn's ears, so loudly that she could just make out the beginnings of Rachel's screams. They were building quickly as Quinn switched breasts. The tight fit of Rachel's fingers ramming inside of her would be enough. But the fact that she was allowed to stick her fingers inside of Rachel, to love Rachel, to suck on her breasts and cradle her ass as she slid against her constantly—the moan in the back of Quinn's throat got lost in Rachel's screams. Those raw screams that seemed to tear Rachel's throat apart.

Quinn trembled around Rachel, feeling come rushing, pulsating as she buried her face in Rachel's breasts against her pounding heart. Her whole body bowed and shook as she sucked Rachel deeper and deeper. She arched her neck on the pillow, looking up to catch Rachel's gaze. Rachel lowered herself slightly until her forehead rested against Quinn's, knowing that Quinn was coming hard.

She answered back, brushing her lips against Quinn's until she could feel every groove and dip, sucking the bottom lip between her own before tugging with her teeth. They stared at each other, awed, Quinn's walls twitching in time with Rachel's, their come gushing to join as their bodies continued to rock.

Rachel's fingers curled first, twisting slightly until Quinn returned the favor. Staring at one another as they drove further, coming without pause until they were shaking yet again. Their eyes locked, silent words necessary, until tears swam. They were both so still as they shook, fingers never stopping, rough, jagged gasps for air their only supplication.

Both their hands stilled as their frames froze completely, rigid as they curved and bent into one another until Rachel collapsed uselessly on top of Quinn, burying her face into Quinn's sweaty neck, legs tangled and chests rising to meet the other.

They were silent as they tried to catch their breath. Mind's whirling as their love making flickered behind their closed eyes. Both felt as though they couldn't move, paralyzed from the extent of their combined effort of making the other come and the force in which they came.

Rachel felt Quinn slowly slip out, bringing a trail of come with her, until her wet hand was stroking Rachel's back slowly, up and down. She could only snuggle up closer to Quinn, her nose nuzzling Quinn's skin slowly as she placed soft open-mouthed kisses to her neck. She suddenly felt nowhere near done. The rolling orgasms were still making her clit and pussy twitch; smelling Quinn's skin, feeling Quinn's hands rub her back gently as she panted, and very aware of the extreme wetness gliding against her leg and fingers, overshadowed her physical exhaustion.

Quinn's hazel eyes were ringed with green as her gaze met Rachel's. She felt drugged and drossy as she watched Rachel lick her puffy lips, hair spilling over her shoulder. Quinn arched up to sweep her tongue along Rachel's lower lip before kissing her mouth repetitively in short forceful pecks until their tongues slid against the other's.

Her head fell back against the pillow. She was still shaking too hard to lift herself up, but very conscious that her throbbing clit kept licking Rachel's slick thigh and her walls were continuously clenching the fingers within her. She wrapped her legs around Rachel, loving that body was still so responsive to everything, loving that she _could. _As Rachel moved her chin to Quinn's chest, peaking up at her through her eyelashes and bangs, Quinn raked her fingers through the dark hair, her pants giving way to puffs.

She watched as Rachel's eyes slowly slid shut. She marveled at her beauty. But Rachel's pulse wasn't slowing. Each time Quinn would slowly rock against Rachel's fingers and thigh, Rachel would shudder as her pulse throbbed in her neck.

Quinn watched on, transfixed, as Rachel's inhaled sharply every time she would part herself up and down Rachel's tanned thigh, stretching around Rachel's buried fingers. She'd feel Rachel's leg muscles clench against her clit, and her rocking would quicken slightly.

"Can you feel that?" Quinn whispered, lifting her hips to sink further onto Rachel. Rachel nodded her head, eyes still closed, but enamored by the wetness seeping from Quinn. "C'mere." Quinn breathed out, lifting to meet Rachel's lips.

Rachel was wheezing against Quinn's mouth, eyes still tightly shut, as she allowed herself to actually _feel_. This was, without a doubt, the most intense experience of Rachel's life. Every emotion she had ever felt for Quinn seemed to have been magnified to the nth degree. And here she was, lying exhausted on top of her wife, her best friend, her partner, her roommate, her enemy, Quinn Fabray, and she _still _had her fingers inside of her.

"What are you doing?" Quinn asked quietly, her voice husky, and a tad restlessly as she looked up at her wife. Rachel's eyes were still closed, but the slow smile that spread indicated to Quinn that she was far from thinking pure thoughts.

Quinn was withering underneath her again. She thought of how elegant Quinn had looked at the benefit. How gorgeous she was at their wedding. How wanton she had been at the strip club. At how desperate she seemed in their bathroom at their engagement party. Rachel's dressing room. When she caught Quinn with the magazine. That night they first went out with Rachel's Julliard friends. The night before graduation.

Cheerios uniform. Leather-clad. Sundresses and cardigans.

"Oh, _fuck,_" Rachel groaned out fervently as her finger slipped deeper into Quinn's wetness.

"_Mmmm, yes, Rach,_" Everything was so muddled to Quinn. The way Rachel's body was sliding against hers, the way Rachel's wet thighs and small hips kept cantering, how Rachel's palm glided over Quinn's hard clit.

"I don't want to stop." Rachel keened, loving the feel of how easily her finger swam inside of Quinn. How wet and slick and hot and _tight _it all felt. Rachel's eyes popped open to find Quinn's mouth hanging open in wonder as she stared up at Rachel.

Quinn's shook her head. She didn't want to stop, either. "I didin't…know…we…could…keep…_Shit, Rachel_…keep…going—_ohmygoddontstop_!" Quinn rushed out as Rachel used her hips to push further into Quinn.

She grabbed Rachel's hips and dug her nails into the skin as Rachel thrust against her, going deeper with each pass. "There are _so _many things I want to do to you." Rachel choked out, visualizing her finger inside Quinn. The walls sucking, the come spreading everywhere.

Her air caught, utterly breathless from Rachel's words. She had her own ideas on every which way she wanted Rachel. Which was really _every_ way. "Like-like what?" Quinn asked in a whisper. The way Rachel's finger would plunge into her and then swirl inside was making black spots appear behind Quinn's eyelids.

Rachel thought about the question and groaned loudly. Her raw throat pleaded with her to take a break. But the rest of Rachel wanted to moan for Quinn. "I wanna ride you again."

"_Yeah." _

"I want to taste you."

Quinn could only nod emphatically, holding her breath sharply as she bit her lower lip.

"I want you to taste me."

"_Gah-od_, Rachelmetoo.

Rachel buried her lips against Quinn's neck as she continued to thrust inside of her. There were a million and one things she wanted to try with Quinn. She wanted to try it all. The hard part was saying it. To put words to exactly what she wanted and to bold enough to actually make the move.

"Quinn, I want _everything_."

"_Fuu-uck_. More, Rach."

"More words or more doing stuff?" Rachel exhaled, face scrunched up in concentration. She was so close to coming again, right up against Quinn's thigh. She could feel herself seizing around nothing but the image of doing every little dirty thing possible to Quinn. The sights and sounds of Quinn. The feel of Quinn's soft skin rubbing against her own, her grip around her fingers, the hot gusts of air blowing against her neck.

Rachel's question puzzled Quinn for a moment before the easy answer became: "_Both_." She pleaded her case by dragging her nails down Rachel's spine, receiving a whimpered moan in response.

"I can do both." Rachel mumbled, her lips against Quinn's shoulder. "I can _definitely _do both."

As Rachel's mouth moved lower, skirting across Quinn's breasts and sinking down between the soft valley, Quinn was suddenly struck with how damp her thigh had become from Rachel. And how much she wanted to do _both _herself. "Waitwaitwaitwaitwait." Quinn whispered, her hips still moving along with Rachel's fingers.

Black eyes and blown pupils were staring up at her in question and concern. "Did I hurt you or-"

Quinn was swinging her head from side to side, wanting to make it _very _clear that she was not hurt—far from it. Rachel sighed in relief, desperate to continue down Quinn's body. "Wait!" Quinn tried again. She needed Rachel to stop for a moment. Which meant she needed to convince her own body to stop jumping to meet Rachel's fingers.

"Quinn, you're going to need to hurry up and explain _exactly _what you'd like, or else I'm going to lose my mind from wanting you." Rachel murmured desperately, her eyes wild with lust. Quinn smiled deliciously; very aware that Rachel's gaze lay a lot lower to where Quinn was spread open. She watched as Rachel licked her lips in anticipation and thrust against Quinn's thigh.

"Me first." Is all Quinn answered with, wiggling herself free from Rachel and down below Rachel's body until she was spread out between Rachel's thighs. Quinn was aware—now that Rachel was no longer inside of her—just how close she was to coming. In that moment, Quinn staring up at the soft pinks and deep reds of Rachel, her swollen, twitching clit, and the wetness that made Quinn's blood boil with obsession, she felt her orgasm bubble only nearer. "_Shit_," Quinn hissed out as she licked her lips and held firm to Rachel's thighs. "_Fuck_, I'm coming."

Rachel whimpered at the declaration, reaching forward to grip the bed frame as her eyes flickered down to the sight of Quinn Fabray coming—body shaking and tensing—as she leaned forward to take Rachel into her mouth. "!" She mumbled in mystified ecstasy as her eyes popped.

Quinn hummed as she sucked her lips around Rachel's clit, softly and with benediction. Her dark hazel eyes were closed, blocking out everything but the enthralling smell and taste of her wife. "_So_ good." Quinn whined quietly, rolling her tongue around the wetness in her mouth before licking her way up and down Rachel before swallowing her clit again.

"So _fucking _good." Rachel echoed with clarification. She was only slightly aware that her hips were swaying, subtly rocking against Quinn's face as she sucked on her clit. However, it did _not _register that her hands were gripping the headboard to the point of pain or that moans were tumbling from her throat with rapid acceleration. She could only stare down and watch as the tip of Quinn's tongue revolved around the stiffness before taking it between her lips, only to suck far harder than before. "_Fuuuck!" _Rachel screamed, shivering as she felt Quinn's teeth slid down the length of her.

Rachel's hips jerked harder, and Quinn's held firmer to her thighs to keep her in place as she sucked her clit. She breathing harshly out of her mouth, trying her best to taste everything Rachel had to offer all while pleasuring her moaning girl on top of her. Every taste of Rachel made her want more. It was spilling from her and dripping and Quinn couldn't move fast enough. And Rachel kept twitching and it was decidedly messy in the most exhilarating way possible.

She was essentially humping Quinn's face. Each time Quinn would lick or suck, Rachel would jerk again, making Quinn's clit mimic the action. She wasn't entirely sure she had ever stopped coming since she began eating Rachel out. The flavor of Rachel was so powerful that Quinn wasn't sure if she was still coming or would just spontaneously come in effect. In short, giving Rachel pleasure was equally if not _more _pleasurable for Quinn.

She liked how Rachel's clit would harden in her mouth, spasm, and swell. The thighs clamped tightly around her ears did not drown out the sound of Rachel's uneven moans. And they certainty couldn't quell the primal screams she heard as she sank her tongue deeply into Rachel as Rachel's walls squeezed back, making her body, once again, dangle and hang as everything went taut.

For a moment, all Rachel could do was shake and try to catch her breath, fingers tangled in blonde hair—although she wasn't sure _when _she had let go of the bedpost. She couldn't swallow. Black spots were exploding behind her eyelids and sweat beaded heavily on her forehead and neck. Slowly, her body rose off of Quinn and sort of fell over on to the bed without her permission. Her hand went to her chest, almost forcing her heart to remain inside, and draped a shaky hand over her forehead.

"I need water." She croaked out. Quinn nodded against bed, unmoving. She couldn't move. Everything felt too tight to move.

"We should have stretched." She mumbled, just able to see Rachel's still form in her peripheral.

But Rachel nodded. "Next time." She breathed out, falling in love all over with Quinn at the statement. It was so just—just—_them_. Stretching. Why didn't she think of that?

"Fist, mask, slippers over who gets the water?" Quinn asked as she slowly rotated her jaw. She heard a deep-throated giggle beside her and suddenly Rachel was curled up to her side. She felt chapped lips against her shoulders and cheek and turned closer until her tongue was slowly circling Rachel's.

"For that…" Rachel whispered against Quinn's ear after a parting peck. The lips felt cool against her skin. "…I'll get the water." Quinn feebly reached out, trying to stop Rachel from leaving her side. But she could already hear bare feet padding across the living room and the sound of the refrigerator opening.

"That feels good." Quinn moaned, enjoying the cool bottle pressed against her forehead, cheek, and neck. Her eyes fluttered open to see Rachel standing next to the bed, hovering over her and smiling. She brushed Quinn's hair off her face and quickly crawled over her until she lay beside her.

"We should've done this forever ago." Rachel murmured, slipping her arm over Quinn stomach and pulling her closer. "Hungry?" Quinn's nod became a lot more emphatic at the question—yes, she also agreed that they should have done it forever ago. "Open." Rachel requested, a fried eggplant roll hovering over her lips.

"_Mmmm, _I'm amazing." Quinn hummed as she bit into the roll. Seriously, she was an amazing cook. Rachel chuckled tiredly, replacing the roll with her lips before feeding Quinn again.

"Sit up or you'll choke." She lightly scolded Quinn around a mouthful of fried eggplant.

"I can't move."

"I know what you mean." Rachel whispered by her ear, arm slung across Quinn's stomach again. "My legs barely supported me. Sit up and drink a little at least."

"Stop bossing me around." Quinn smiled, it was dopey and dimple-ly and it felt so _good _to smile that way. She had _never _smiled that way before. But the smile vanished as she felt Rachel's hand start to rub her breast.

"You look so good, Quinn." Rachel groaned, fried eggplant already forgotten as she began so kiss down Quinn's ribs. As she rounded Quinn's hips, Quinn almost choked then. She coughed and quickly sat up on her elbows as she watched dark hair hover over her pussy.

Rachel was looking up at her, a crumb from the eggplant roll on the corner of her lip. She thumbed it away before splaying her hands through Rachel's hair. "May I?" Rachel asked softly.

Quinn couldn't take her eyes off of her, her breasts squeezing between Quinn's thighs, her eyes wide and hungry. All Quinn could do was hold up a finger, quickly unscrew the lid from her water, down half, and chuck the closed bottle across the room before nodding.

"You'll need to stay hydrated." Rachel promised before she dropped her lips.

X

It was impossible to sleep. Quinn's heart was still thudding away in her chest as though she was on an insane caffeine high. Her body felt slick with sweat and come and only a shower would help. But she didn't want to leave Rachel's side. She knew her wife wasn't in a deep sleep, the air was absent of snores, but she didn't want to wake her either; she had only been out for a little over twenty minutes.

Quinn smiled, softly at first, until she was scooting closer to Rachel's face on the pillow they shared night after night. Then she was chuckling; thinking about how Rachel felt bad for the _other _pillow they never used—Rachel hoped it didn't feel neglected.

Again, Quinn considered showering. She was pretty sure her legs could support her while she cleaned off, but again she dismissed the idea; she just wanted to stare at Rachel. She never could do it in high school. She could remember quite vividly the desire to do so back then. For purely research. Quinn wanted to know what all the boys saw in her. Besides her legs. And ass. And eyes. And voice. And adorable behavior. And, _God_, her lips!

Rachel was chuckling into the kiss even before her eyes fluttered open. She felt Quinn smile against her mouth and laughed deep in her throat knowing how proud Quinn was for waking her this way. She was _pretty _sure she had slept, at any rate. It didn't feel as though she had. But it was Friday morning. They had the whole day to lie around and do just this.

Rachel smiled at the thought as she fisted Quinn's hair.

"Hello there." Quinn beamed, pressing her body closer to Rachel's. Rachel smiled back, her heart swelling with how much love she saw directed toward her in Quinn's beaming smile. All teeth. A smile that was so rare for Quinn Fabray. A smile Rachel couldn't remember ever really seeing in high school. A smile that was almost a constant companion these days.

"Why, hello, wifey." They both frowned. The words didn't really come out of Rachel's throat. With a confused smile, Rachel placed her hand to her neck, cleared it the best she could around the dry, raw feeling, and tried again. "Hello?" But nothing but a thick rattle sounded.

Quinn's eyes widened slowly and comically until she was staring in horror at her wife. "Oh. My. God." Before Rachel could even stop her, Quinn was bounding out of the bed, quite naked, and sprinting into the kitchen. "_FUCK_!" She heard her wife shout as Quinn ripped open cabinets and knocked over everything in her path. "I'm making tea! I'm making tea with honey! I'm so sorry! I'm _so_, sorry! Oh my, God, oh my, God, OH MY, GOD!"

Rachel rolled over onto her back as she listened to Quinn freak the fuck out in the kitchen. "Quinn?" Rachel tried to call out, but her voice was lost in her throat.

"_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, fucking damn it, fucking damn it, fucking damn it!"_ A deep chuckle erupted from Rachel's throat as she smiled up at the ceiling, her hand plopping behind her head as the other massaged her sore stomach. All her muscles felt deliciously used and she bit her lip as she listened to the soundtrack of Quinn making a mess in the kitchen. "Tea's boiling! It's boiling!"

But Rachel only grinned on. She suddenly understood the faraway, dreamy smile Scarlett wore in _Gone with the Wind _the morning after her first time with Rhett. She squealed quietly to herself—it came out more like a whine—and rolled over swiftly to fetch her phone.

In the kitchen, Quinn was less calm.

"We're never having sex again, she'll never let me touch her, must make tea with _tons_ of honey, soothing things, liquid, water, she can't talk for the rest of the day!" The tea started to boil in the kettle and Quinn was chewing on her lip, rocking back and forth as she watched its progress. "It's boiling!" She screeched out, hands flailing in the air, wanting to update its progress so Rachel wouldn't divorce her before the day was through.

She tripped over nothing as she lunged for the biggest mug she could find, quickly plunging a teabag inside, and nearly dropping the steaming hot kettle as she poured the boiled water into the mug. "I'm using LOTS of honey, Rach. Lots! Just, just, just, don't talk or anything!" Lots of honey, indeed. She nearly used a quarter of the bottle. "_Fuck!_" Quinn cursed, in too much of a hurry bringing the tea to her wife and it lapped over the sides and scolded her bare feet. "I'm fine!" Quinn called out with a wince, not wanting to worry Rachel. But when she got into the bed room, she nearly dropped the mug for real. "Who are you talking to?" Quinn screeched, the decibel levels of her voice reaching an all-time high.

There was Rachel, naked, sprawled out on the bed on top of the covers, with her cell to her ear, a smile on her face, and twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Rachel frowned at the wide-eyed Quinn and placed a finger to her lips, shushing her.

"I'm really sorry about this, Ainsley." Rachel croaked out, but still smiling. Quinn was horrified to hear her wife's nearly-gone voice. "Yes, I suppose I better. Mmm hmm. Yes." Quinn shuffled over to the bed and placed down the mug before crawling over to her wife.

"Give me the phone! Give it! Give it!" Rachel rolled away from Quinn's outstretched hand.

"_Hold on, Rachel, dear; Charlene wants a word. Take care, love, and call me when you're feeling better."_

"Thank you, Ainsley, good luck to you too."

"Giveittome! Giveittome! Giveittome!" Rachel giggled as she rolled around on the bed, batting and dodging Quinn's hand as her wife tried to grab the phone from her.

"Hi, Charlene." Rachel rasped harshly as Charlene got onto the phone.

"_Rachel, dear, you sound just _awful!" Rachel hummed in agreement as she jumped off the bed and circled it, trying to get away from Quinn. As her wife chased after her, Rachel hopped back on the bed and off again, Quinn trailing her as she hissed at Rachel to get off the phone. "_Don't say anything, lovey dovey, just rest your voice. I just want to make sure that you don't go and do something horrid like feel guilty for not attending tonight's show. You're very welcome to days off and _before _you do something idiotic like interrupt me and say you _just had _days off for your wedding and honeymoon, you're allowed _many _days off to lay in bed with your beautiful wife and do all the things you were so _obviously _were going to do when you left the benefit last evening." _

Rachel giggled into the phone, now on the opposite side of the couch from Quinn in the living room. The answering giggle put a smile on Charlene's face.

"_Feel better, give Quinn a kiss for me—make it appropriate—and I'll see you when I see you, darling. Love and air kisses!" _Rachel smirked at Quinn from across the couch and threw her phone down on a pillow. Quinn relaxed slightly now that Rachel was off the phone; glad that she wouldn't be using her voice.

"You look _so_ sexy." Quinn's eyes bulged angrily at her wife.

"Stop _talking_! What the _hell _is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how stupid it is to speak right now?" Quinn hissed. "You could strain your voice further! Never_ mind _the fact that you could risk _permanent_ damaged to your vocal cords!" She said shrilly, yanking at blonde hair. Rachel was nodding and pouting with fake seriousness as she crawled on her knees across the couch closer to Quinn. "Don't you give me that look, Rachel Berry! _Rachel_! Rachel, _stop_!"

Now it was Quinn's turn to evade her wife, yelping as she took off for the bedroom. Rachel was giggling deeply as she tackled her wife down onto the bed. Quinn's face was buried in the neglected pillow, Rachel on top of her, sprawled out against her length.

"You're not mad at me?" Quinn mumbled against the pillow in a quiet, dejected voice. Rachel only shook her head as her tongue flicked at Quinn's ear. "I'll get to have sex with you again?"

Rachel laughed lowly as she nodded and Quinn smiled against the pillow; it wasn't the same Rachel Berry laugh she loved, but there was something to be said about how low and sexy it sounded.

"Are we going to have sex right now?" Rachel heard the smirk in Quinn's voice and sunk her teeth into Quinn's neck as she shook her head.

"Food shopping day." Rachel purred in her gravelly voice as she ran her hands up and down the bare sides of Quinn's body. With her finger, she softly traced Quinn's back, spelling out a word, before she was jumping off her wife and hurrying towards the shower.

Quinn bit her lip as she rolled over onto her back. "_Fore_play." She mumbled, repeating the word Rachel had just drawn on her back, before bounding after Rachel.

X

Rachel walked backwards, eyes on a prowling Quinn, before sliding up to a shopping cart. Both girls blindly waved—wiggling their fingers as they smirked at one another—at the cart boy who greeted them by name. Besides that, they ignored him.

Quinn's arms slipped underneath Rachel's so that she was holding the cart and didn't hesitate to push into her wife's body, getting Rachel's back to hit the handlebar. "You're sexy when you're shopping." Rachel smirked, her eyebrow slowly ascending, before she allowed Quinn to push the cart forward through the sliding doors of the market.

"I'm sexy all the time." Quinn breathed out with a smirk of her own. Resting her elbows on the handlebars behind her, Rachel slowly nodded as she bit her lip.

"Where's your list?" Rachel flirted, rolling the word off her tongue as they proceeded down aisle two.

"Where do _you _think it is?" Quinn asked in challenge, her eyebrow rising slowly. Chuckling softly, Rachel leaned forward and pressed her lips against Quinn's collarbone. "You're warm." Quinn whispered as she ducked her head so her lips skimmed Rachel's ear. Rachel smiled against Quinn's chest as her hands snaked up the front of a soft tan, faux-leather jacket until she was at the collar of Quinn's forest-green dress. "_Warmer._" Quinn husked out.

Rachel's gaze darted up as she looked at Quinn underneath her lashes. Quinn looked right back, eyes blazing, before Rachel dipped her hand into her wife's dress and plucked out the list from her bra.

"Now ask me where my _coupons_ are." Quinn hissed out playfully and tugged on Rachel's earlobe around her grin. Rachel's forehead dropped to Quinn's shoulder as she laughed openly. She felt the stares of those around her on her and her wife and completely ignored them; Quinn's smile was gigantic, that's all that mattered. She just allowed Quinn to steer them throughout the store as she placed different items into their cart.

Their progress was slow considering Rachel had to walk backwards, and they were more concerned with one another than actual shopping. It didn't help that they stopped to make out in front of the Healthy Heart section.

Other shoppers glanced on at the enamored couple and sometimes took a few pictures of them kissing or cuddling, but for the most part left them alone. The employees, however, greeted the girls and got little to no response back; they were otherwise occupied.

After they washed each other's hair and soaped one another's bodies in the shower earlier that morning, Quinn made Rachel soak in the steam and handed her cup of tea after cup of tea until Rachel didn't sound so hoarse. There were already vitamins and different supplements in their cart, and each word Rachel uttered was a whisper—Quinn would have it no other way. And Rachel wouldn't either. She knew her voice and she wasn't worried. But it was better to be safe than sorry. She would be much more careful in the future while having sex with Quinn. If one show was missed after a whole night and morning's worth of sex…Rachel could certainly deal with that. Even if Quinn wasn't pleased.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?" Quinn groaned out as she nuzzled in Rachel's neck. Her wife's hands were tangled up inside her jacket so she could skim Quinn's breasts when the mood struck as they stood in an empty aisle eight, list all but forgotten.

"_Mmmm_, you." Rachel pressed a kiss just above Quinn's left breast. "You." She licked Quinn's collarbone. "And more you." Rachel whined before squeezing both breasts and flicking Quinn's hard nipples.

Quinn exhaled harshly as she tried to fight through the haze of arousal. Her eyes darted around the store to make sure they were quite alone. They were. Besides the cameras. But who looked at those anyway? Exactly…okay, so the employees would probably check today's particular tapes out and release them to Youtube or something. But Quinn couldn't be bothered.

"I don't think there's a sale on that today." Quinn mumbled, eyes on Rachel's lips.

"I would _gladly_ pay full price." Rachel pronounced as she backed herself into a self. She felt canned goods behind her and ignored them as she stared up at Quinn.

"You're making me sound like a hooker again." Rachel disregarded the comment and hooked her finger to beckon Quinn over to her. "And you're supposed to be resting your voice." Quinn stated as she pressed her body up against Rachel's, clinging to the shelves beside Rachel's head. They breathed harshly against one another's mouths as they stared at each other. Rachel just shook her head, adopting a sexy expression to lure Quinn in. "I can't singlehandedly destroy your career, Rachel, just because I'm so awesome in bed."

Rachel's lips quirked as she tried to refrain from smirking. She also had to fight off an eye roll. She couldn't help it if she was _extremely _vocal in bed with Quinn. It only made sense, really. She was a singer. She was verbose. Naturally it would bleed into the bedroom as well.

"I can be quiet." Rachel drawled out as she fluttered her eyelashes up at Quinn, trying to look as innocent, yet alluring, as possible.

Quinn groaned deeply in the back of her throat as she pushed closer to Rachel. Her hands dropped down to cup her wife's ass as she buried her face in the crook of her neck. "And what if I don't _want _you to be quiet?" Rachel trembled violently as she treaded her hands into Quinn's hair. And all at once, they were kissing.

Rachel moaned loudly as she felt Quinn squeeze her ass hard. Her hips rocked and her body shifted so she could slip her thigh between Quinn's. The sound of falling canned goods registered to both of them, however, they reallydidn't care.

But she had been right, shopping had been foreplay. _Everything _seemed like foreplay now. And both girls were very all right with that.

Suddenly Quinn was pulling away and grabbing Rachel's hand, moving them around their cart. "Come with me." She whispered, eyes wild, as she navigated her and Rachel throughout the store.

"Where are we going?"

"_Shhh_, no talking." Quinn mumbled as she dragged her wife along with her. She was searching for somewhere, anywhere really. Just a place where she could be alone with Rachel. There were only two such places that could accommodate them at that moment, and Quinn highly doubted the deli section would turn Rachel on—the swinging racks of lamb and other meats would probably have the complete opposite effect on her wife, and also herself. That left where they housed the dry goods. Quinn had been there one time when she was buying food in bulk for their engagement party. She had stood there as she watched Glen happily pull things off the selves, falling over himself to please Quinn, while other employees sat around tables and chairs on their break.

There was a back hallway. It led to the loading dock. It would be empty…fingers crossed.

The dimly lit hallway wasn't ideal, but neither girl seemed to mind as they sneaked further towards the double doors that led to the loading area. The hallway curved, blocking off anyone who would be near, and Rachel was already on her knees as Quinn started hiking up her dress. "I _love _that we both knew _exactly _what was going to happen once we got back here." Rachel mumbled as she nuzzled into Quinn's wet panties.

Quinn's clit was noticeably hard and distended through the cotton, and Rachel kissed it lightly as Quinn palmed the back of her head. "We're going to need to hurry up, Rach." She moaned out, biting her lip as her head swiveled to make sure they were still alone.

Rachel nodded against her, happily breathing her Quinn's scent, before fingering the edge of her panties until she was pulling them over to expose Quinn. Rachel had her full attention now. She shivered as she felt Rachel softly blow on her clit before trailing up the length with her tongue. "This good?" Quinn nodded against the red brick wall behind her, mouth hanging open. "How about this?" Rachel questioned quietly, pulling the clit between her lips. Quinn nodded harder, staring into Rachel's eyes.

She wished she could remember what Quinn had enjoyed so many hours ago in bed. But it was all so jumbled. She wished she could have taken notes. _Wait a moment please, Quinn; I must jot down that you moaned heartily when I sucked you hard. _Now wasn't really the right time to inquire either. But if she had to accomplish her task quickly, she needed some direction.

"You'll need to tell me, okay? Tell me what you want." Quinn nodded again as she chewed and twisted her lips with her teeth, spreading her legs open a little wider. She couldn't believe they were doing this, _here _of all places. She couldn't believe that Rachel was kneeling down on the filthy floor either, in her short skirt and knee-highs. But it kind of made sense, too. Like, they went so long without, too concerned with where they were and who was around. Now it was just like: _fuck it. _

"Use your lips a lot." Quinn whined, raking Rachel's hair out of her face so she could watch. "And…_yeah, swallow-_" She groaned, the rest getting lost in her throat as Rachel took her lips and clit all into her mouth at once and sucked. "_Juuust _like that, _yes_." She hissed, rocking her hips with each slurp and bob of Rachel's head, pushing her closer and watching so intently. Her lust was sated. Watching Rachel do this to her. It was beyond erotic. But now she just wanted the girl close. "_C'mere_." She yanked Rachel to her feet, kissing and tasting herself, holding the girl close as Rachel's fingers replaced her mouth.

Their eyes remained open as they she watched Rachel watch her. Coming apart and amazed that _Rachel—her _Rachel—was the one doing it. She cupped the back of Rachel's neck as she came, her sweaty hand holding her close as she shuddered, until they were kissing softly again. Kisses that by no means reflected their setting.

"You okay?" Quinn whispered by her ear.

Rachel could only hold her tighter. Because she asked. Because she _let _her touch her. Because she knew what Quinn _really _wanted to say.

"So _perfect."_ It was the only appropriate response.

Luckily their cart was still there waiting for them in aisle eight. Rachel was all smiles as she balanced on the bottom bar of the cart, facing Quinn as Quinn pushed them down the aisles. "I have a surprise for you." Rachel beamed; it turning into a smirk when Quinn's blushing face only reddened.

"Besides the one you just gave me?" Rachel thought it was cute that Quinn was a tad shy…you know…considering what just happened.

She nodded. "Yes. Besides the one I just gave you." She leaned over the cart, enjoying that she was riding on it and Quinn was guiding them. It was so childish, _especially_ after what they had just done. "Guess what I did?"

Quinn smile was self-satisfied. "_Again _I ask…?"

"When I tell you," Rachel sing-songed as she twirled her hair. "You're going to want to take me right home and then promptly marry me all over again."

Quinn guided the cart into a checkout lane and went for her purse. "Ah, ah, ah." Rachel mocked with a wag of her finger. She knew Quinn was going for her coupons. Coupons she clipped every Sunday since she started the weekly shopping tradition.

Slowly, Rachel pulled her own clipped coupons out of her bag, eyes wide with mischief and self-satisfaction. Ignoring the girl manning the register, Quinn threw back her head and moaned quietly before looking back at Rachel. "You are so in for it when we get home." She whispered in Rachel's ear as they began loading up the conveyer belt. "You holding coupons," Quinn inhaled sharply as her eyes slid closed. "_Possibly _the sexiest thing ever."

They both knew that Quinn was being completely serious.

They continued smiling at one another as, "Hi, I'm Claudia. Ask Me About Our Savings," began ringing them up. And then they promptly blushed when the store's speaker asked for a cleanup on aisle eight.

X

Quinn's eyelashes fluttered open and noted the bright sunlight in the room. She knew it had to be midmorning. She wasn't wrapped in Rachel's arms and she frowned before rolling over to come face to face with Rachel's back. Her wife was sitting up on the edge of her bed, leaning forward.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Rachel smiled, momentarily forgetting about lacing up her boots, as she felt Quinn's lips softly kiss the round of her shoulder. "You're awake."

"Were you trying to duck out?" Quinn purred. "You take advantage of me all last night and day and leave without a goodbye?" She finished off with another kiss through her smile.

"You know me so well." Rachel purred back, looking over her shoulder to smile at her wife.

"You're all showered and dressed," Quinn pouted. "Where are you going?"

"Jesse called. We're having a late lunch." Quinn frowned harder, getting Rachel to chuckle. "I haven't really seen him since before the wedding and he's getting petulant. Apparently he's had his heart broken and wants to see me." Rachel felt horrible. Since the previous night, both of their phones had been off—sheltering them to the outside world. Since she didn't have a show that night, she should take advantage of it to see Jesse. After all, she planned on lying around in bed with Quinn all of Saturday as well, up until her show. Sunday would be a wash because of her back-to-back shows, but Monday was just going to be a repeat of sex on top of sex. _No _interruptions!

"But I want to see you _more_." Quinn whispered as she flicked Rachel's hair over her shoulder to gain better access to her wife's neck.

"And I'd rather be here with you." Rachel moaned, leaning into the kiss. "But I've been a very bad friend lately."

"Call him back and tell him we'll take him out to dinner." Quinn mumbled, her tongue snaking up the column of Rachel's neck. She too felt bad that they had ignored everything and everyone. She was positive that when she turned on her phone she'd have a least a dozen texts and calls from Lydia, Jeremy, and Jesse…and possibly others. Others? Quinn shook her head, not caring about others. Even though she suddenly felt like she forgot something.

Rachel hissed in reaction, her hand flying backwards to fist Quinn's hair to keep her in place. "I can't." She answered, albeit half-heartedly.

Quinn smirked into Rachel's neck. She almost had her. Rachel would only need a little more convincing. "Baby, baby, baby, don't leave me. Oh, please don't leave me, all by myself." Quinn sang. Rachel laughed loudly, throwing back her head as a smiling Quinn wrapped her naked body around her wife's. "Been missing you, miss kissing you. Instead of breaking up. Let's have some kissin' and makin' up."

Rachel allowed herself to be dragged back onto the bed. She smiled up at her wife as Quinn lay on top of her, pulling the white sheet over their heads and tenting their moment; blocking out the world around them. "I've got this burning, burning, yearning, feeling inside me. _Ooh_, deep inside me, and it hurts so bad." Quinn smirked devilishly before her expression grew to fake seriousness. "I need _you_, _ooh_ how I need you. But all you do is treat me bad. Break my heart and leave me sad. Tell me what did I do wrong. To make you stay away so long."

Quinn slowly undid the buttons on Rachel's shirt and dipped her head until she was singing into Rachel's chest and Rachel was pretty sure she was having the most perfect moment of her life. Quinn's voice was like liquefied sex; purring the words more than singing them and she touched her. "You came into my heart, so tenderly, with a burning love, that stings like a bee. Now that I surrender, so helplessly. In my arms you're gonna stay. Why must we separate? Why d'you do me like you do? Baby, baby, don't leave me. Oooh, please don't leave me, all by myself." The tune died as Quinn's mouth began kissing and sucking on Rachel's breasts. Quinn knew she had won the argument.

"Did you…just…_mmmm_," Rachel hummed as she threaded her fingers through Quinn's long hair. "Did you just make an impromptu mash-up of the two Supremes' hits, _Where Did Our Love Go_, and _Baby, Love_?"

Quinn shimmied down Rachel's body as her lips ghosted over her wife's stomach. "_Yesss_." She whispered playfully, smirking up at Rachel as she did so.

Rachel nodded distractedly, her mouth panting as Quinn drew lower. "Oh." She finally stated. Her head fell back on the pillow as harsh puffs of air were released softly at Quinn's ministrations. "_Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, shit, damn it, damn it, damn it_," Rachel hissed quietly, loving the feeling of Quinn's soft mouth gliding over her panties. Rachel didn't _need _Quinn to sing to her to get her to stay. She was moments away from cracking regardless. The fact that Quinn _did _sing, a mash-up no less… "Hand me my phone." Rachel whimpered before pushing hard on Quinn's head, directing her lower. Quinn's hand shot out from underneath the blankets and fumbled blindly on top of the bedside table until her fingers wrapped around Rachel's phone.

Later Rachel would blame autocorrect for all her spelling errors.

Seven hours later, Quinn and Rachel had finally made it out of their apartment and were walking into the diner around the corner to meet Jesse. They had made out in two separate alleyways, collided with several pedestrians, and were now blocking the doorway, all in their haste not to separate mouths.

"No need to get the hose out, I'll detach them." Jesse grumbled to the surly hostess as he slunk forward. "This really isn't necessary." He chided them as he grabbed both of their elbows and pulled them over to the table. He could only roll his eyes when they both slid into the booth across from his. "You'll put me off my meal."

Rachel recovered first, grinning seductively at Quinn before turning to Jesse. "Hi!" She smiled brightly, bouncing out of her booth to hug him. As soon as her ass hit the seat, though, Quinn's hand was firmly planted on the inside of her thigh.

Jesse only rolled his eyes again. As the girls traded loving looks, Jesse glanced around the diner. "Why are we _here_? Isn't there somewhere a little more _upscale_ we could have gone? I feel the sudden need to shower being around all of these tourists."

"Jesse, stop." Rachel scolded with a smile. "It's equal distance between your hotel and our apartment, and they really do have a surprising number of vegan-friendly entrees."

"How fantastic for them." Jesse mumbled. "So…tell me, how are you?" He asked, looking at Rachel.

And she was off. As she filled in her friend about the Thursday's benefit, different performances, the honeymoon in grander detail, and every little detail that _didn't_ contain her and Quinn's recent sex life, while Quinn stared at her wife with a glazed-over, hungry look in her eyes as her hand moved up and down Rachel's thigh.

Jesse, in turn, filled Rachel in on everything. His show was doing really well. His spur-of-the-moment trip to Ohio had been horrible. And he was off-book already for the musical war film he was set to co-star in. And his apartment search—his roommates had kicked him out. He had just finished telling Rachel about how he was desperately looking forward to his trip to California in a few days time, when Rachel inquired about Ohio.

"I went to see Holly." Jesse responded miserably as he speared a cucumber from his salad. He eyed the vegetable with disdain before dropping his fork in disgust. "I'm not even sure this is actual food."

"Holly?" Rachel asked with a cock of her head. It had been a tad difficult to listen to Jesse's whole speech when Quinn's hand kept getting persistently higher up on her thigh.

Jesse huffed and crossed his arms. "Yes, Rachel, Holly. Holly Holiday. The woman I had met in Lima and took to your wedding."

Rachel's eyes widened as she suppressed a smile. "_That's _the woman who broke your heart? Holly Holiday?"

"You know her?" Jesse asked with disdain. Rachel could only laugh and shake her head. She quickly filled Jesse in on the woman, and the more she spoke, the more miserable Jesse looked.

"Yeah, well, you could have _told _me that before I went and fell in love with her!"

"Oh, Jesse, you didn't fall in love with her." Rachel responded with a roll of her eyes as she sipped on her water. Again, she was slightly distracted by Quinn's hand. She dropped her own down to lace her fingers with Quinn, but not quite minding that Quinn's finger kept slowly drawling up and down the front of her panties.

"I _am _in love with her, Rachel! She's the most complex and free-spirited woman I've ever met! And she _dumped _me!"

"Well Holly does have a bit of a commitment problem. You just have to find a woman that is interested in something _more, _Jesse." Rachel tilted her head in thought. "And probably someone closer to your age."

"I'm an old soul, Rachel. I need a fine wine to entice my rich pallet."

"That disturbing image aside, Jesse, you should start looking for someone a bit more emotionally available. Someone who appreciates Broadway and carters to you. Like the way Quinn does for me!" Quinn smiled at Rachel, not at all following along with the conversation. She merely heard her wife say her name and smiled in response.

"Well that's all well and good, Rachel, but I can't recall a girl who tormented me in high school, who lied to mooch off of me later in life only to turn it into a career!"

"That was hardly called for." Rachel huffed.

"It's just not meant to be," Jesse sighed. "I will be alone forever, destined to be misunderstood as only a wildly successful and devastatingly handsome star." Rachel could only nod—Quinn's fingers were getting merciless—as Jesse ducked his head in despair. "'Alone in a crowd on a bus after work and I'm dreaming. The guy next to me has a girl in his arms. My arms are empty. How does it feel when the girl next to you says she loves you? It seems so unfair when there's love everywhere but there's none for you.'"

Rachel's eyebrows sagged as she sympathized with her friend. Quinn was still blissfully unaware. But other people around the small diner turned to look at the man who had just started singing. "'Some guys have all the luck! Some guys have all the pain! Some guys get all the breaks! Some guys do nothing but complain!'"

It was when Rachel jumped in for backup vocals that Quinn caught on. Her head jerked up—now not so hypnotized by the sight of her wife's wet and transparent panties—and huffed before gesturing to the waitress for their check.

It would take another five minutes before getting Rachel and Jesse out of the diner. And it didn't stop them from continuing their song down the streets of New York City. It most certainly didn't help that there had been a saxophonist on the corner and a family of German tourists all too happy to snap pictures and digitally record the duet.

Jeremy and Lydia met the three of them at Quinn and Rachel's apartment not long after. Quinn was in the kitchen cooking a late dinner—she couldn't recall eating at the diner and neither could Rachel. The girls weren't exactly happy that they were entertaining, seeing as how they wanted every available minute alone to make up for lost time, but they were both in agreement that Jesse was too depressed to be alone and no one was really sure why Jeremy and Lydia magically appeared on their doorstep, but were invited in all the same.

Lydia and Jesse sat on the kitchen counter while watching as Quinn added the ingredients to her okra and seitan gumbo—she thought a hardier meal would act like comfort food to Jesse's melancholy—while Rachel and Jeremy spoke in the living room.

"So," Jesse breathed out with a huff. "How did you tell her?"

"Tell who what?" Quinn asked distractedly as she sucked on her finger, appraising her gumbo with a tilt of her head back and forth in contemplation, before deeming it perfect and bustling around the kitchen for plates.

"How did you tell Rachel you love her? Did you tell her just before you made love?" Quinn froze. "Did you whisper it in her ear during?" Lydia wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Or did you tell her at the illustrious Gotham Hall while you defiled her in the restroom?" Jesse asked with a disinterested wave of his hand.

But Quinn hadn't moved a muscle. Her shoulders were still tense and her gumbo started bubbling. "You _did _tell her, right?" Jesse persisted.

The question flicked a switch within Quinn, and suddenly she was removing her gumbo from the stove and making a great fuss of getting everything prepared. "_Quinn!_" Jesse hissed from behind her. Beside him, however, Lydia was beaming.

"So you _didn't _pledge your undying love and officially admit your feelings?" Lydia shot Jesse a smirk. "Well I suppose I don't owe you that money after all, St. James."

Jesse rolled his eyes on hopped off the counter. "_How _could you not _tell _her!" Jesse hissed. Quinn ignored him and moved about the small kitchen as though he had not spoken. "I thought we had a deal? You _told _me that you'd be good to her. Yet you sleep with her without telling you how much you love her."

"That's none of your business!" Quinn hissed right back, inches from his face.

"Lyds?" Jeremy called out from the living room.

"Be there in a sec, Jerm, things just got interesting in here!" Lydia called back as she moved to sit Indian style on the counter and placed her palms on her cheeks to watch intently.

Simultaneously, both Quinn and Jesse rolled their eyes at the girl before turning back to face off. "_How _could you not tell her?"

"_How_ is that any of your business?" Quinn repeated in a heated whisper.

"She's my _best _friend, Quinn!"

"Oh, I thought Jeremy is your best friend, isn't that why you two wear those matching bracelets?" Quinn answered sarcastically as she eyed the hemp around Jesse's wrist. Jesse stood a little taller before folding his arms across his chest.

"You're just jealous because _you _didn't get one; now stop deflecting!"

"Weren't _you _the one that told me that I should wait to tell her to admit her feelings?"

"I think she's made it pretty obvious how she feels, Quinn." Jesse answered with a roll of his eyes.

"And I think I've made it pretty _damn_ obvious about _my _feelings, Jesse! _Don't _tell me how to run my marriage. I know Rachel better than _anyone_ and I'll know when it's right!"

"When? When you're drunk? Is that when you wait to be honest?"

"Ooohhh, burn, St. James." Lydia said, her eyes slightly wide. Without looking at her, Jesse lifted his arm and he and Lydia high-fived. Quinn scoffed at the sight.

"Like I _said_." Quinn gritted out between her teeth, eyeing them both sneeringly. "_I _know Rachel better than anyone! She _knows _I love her. She knows that _I_ know she loves me. We're just adjusting to the new…_thing _in our relationship." It was Jesse's turn to scoff as Quinn turned her back on the pair to dish out the gumbo.

"And how long do you think this adjustment period will take place? Hmmm? Silver or Golden anniversary?"

Quinn rolled her eyes as she slapped some food onto a plate before handing it over to Jesse. "Remind me to set you up with April Rhodes, St. James." She mumbled.

"Why, is she single?" Jesse asked, suddenly perking up.

"Just stay out of my marriage, and I'll stay out of your nonresistant love life."

"Point to Fabray." Lydia commented, getting Jesse to frown.

_Meanwhile…_

"It was just all so lovely, Jeremy. Perfect." Rachel breathed. Jeremy sighed deeply, hand against his cheek, as he stared across at Rachel.

"It sounds magical, Rach."

"It was." Rachel answered back dreamily. Jeremy smiled wistfully as he reclined back onto the couch.

"Did she hold you all night long?"

"She did."

"And did you wake up in each other's arms?"

Rachel sighed languorously. "We did."

Jeremy tucked his arms behind his head. "And did you whisper you I love you's all morning long over the paper and mugs of hot chocolate?"

"We-" Rachel stopped abruptly and bit her lip. "Didn't." She finished, adverting her eyes from Jeremy.

"Why not?" He asked, truly puzzled as he sat back up.

Rachel sighed heavily. "It's just that…everything is _so _perfect, Jerm. Like…for the first time ever!" Rachel tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as she gazed at the floor. "I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to…_label_ things.

"It's just that…in high school…sometimes, Jeremy, I had a knack for…messing up certain relationships in my life. Quinn is the first time I've done things right…and you have to admit, how we've gotten to this point is _hardly_ ideal." Jeremy nodded emphatically. "So the idea of…jumping the gun when things have finally worked themselves out…I just want to be _sure, _you know. I want things to happen naturally."

"I guess I could understand that. With Finn you were always so adamant. He was your leading man. Everything had to be out of a storybook."

"Exactly!"

"But you and Quinn…it all began the exact _opposite _of a fairytale…yet, here you are."

"Precisely!"

"So instead of waiting for the movie moment to declare your love, you're just waiting for the most organic time, not forcing the issue, just enjoying the present."

Rachel held out her hands. "I couldn't have possibly said it better myself." She had no idea how the boy knew so much about her high school experiences, but whatever, he was right.

She just didn't want to jinx things. High school had been a mess. In the beginning of Rachel and Quinn's relationship, even though it was wonderful and a lot of the time real, when everything came out into the open, things had been messy as well. They had said I love you then. Real or not, honest or still lying, it didn't matter. They had said it then when everything else around them had been tainted. Now, with a clean slate, Rachel just wanted things exactly how they were. To continue how they were. She didn't need Quinn to say the words. She _knew _Quinn loved her. How she looked at Rachel, made love to her, did small, inane things like clean or cook or buy flowers—she _knew _Quinn loved her. And she knew that Quinn got just how much Rachel loved her. Each time they were together, the looks they shared, the touches—Rachel knew Quinn knew. The words, although wonderful to hear, were unnecessary. Back then, when they were lying, they _were _necessary. Because back then, they didn't have looks or touches or smiles that were teeth-y and bright. Moans and orgasms that lasted forever and rolled into yet another one. Words were just words. Finn Hudson proved that. The lies Rachel and Quinn spoke to get where they now were proved that. And each time Quinn would look at, stare into her eyes, _that _proved it. She didn't need words if Quinn Fabray continued to look at her like that.

A full beat went by, both of them silent and considering, before Jeremy pulled out a blunt from his hoodie pocket. "Yeah, I don't remember what I just said."

X

"We should help Jesse find a girl." Rachel panted out, her mouth closely pressed to Quinn's thigh.

"Sure." Quinn answered distractedly, kneading Rachel's scalp as she urged her wife on.

"I mean, there has to be _someone _that will date him. You know, who's his age, not gay, _not _my mother, married, or emotionally crippled."

"_Hmmm_." Quinn hummed before gasping, loving the feel of how her body responded as Rachel slowly thrust her fingers in and out of her wetness.

It was late Saturday night. Rachel's voice was more than perfect during the show despite their near-constant sex all day; she had gotten very could at turning her screams to moans.

"Perhaps the Swaines know of someone." Rachel continued, watching in fascination at how her fingers kept getting swallowed by Quinn. The way Quinn's naked body canted and arched. How her wife's breasts bounced slightly each time Quinn impaled herself on Rachel's finger. "You're so…" _Beautiful, gorgeous, perfect. _"Unbelievably _hot_." Rachel moaned.

Quinn smirked, eyes still closed, loving the feeling of Rachel's free hand trailing up her stomach to her breasts. She took her wife's hand and led Rachel's fingers into her mouth to suck and lavish. "Rachel?" Quinn croaked out, her tongue slipping out to roll Rachel's fingertip.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel answered promptly, still watching with wide eyes as her finger was being squeezed into Quinn.

"We haven't been having sex nearly long enough for you to be distracted during. Stop talking." Quinn finished, sucking the fingers back in her mouth before yanking on Rachel's arm to join her at the top of the bed.

Forehead to forehead they panted as they stared at one another; both still astonished that it was all happening. As Quinn's pussy contracted and griped Rachel's finger tightly, Rachel's eyes snapped closed as she moaned. "That's, without a doubt, the most amazing feeling in the world." Rachel whispered in a rush, awe apparent.

Quinn had to respectfully disagree. And as her head slammed back on her pillow, and her body arched up into Rachel's, frozen as she was seized with trembling explosions, she grasped Rachel's naked back to claw at the skin to silently plead her case.

"_Shit, yesss!_" Quinn was gasping for air as she collapsed back down on the bed, her body unable to move an inch. Rachel fell on top of her along Quinn's naked length, also motionless, as they panted back and forth, too gratified to budge.

Quinn was still gasping for air as she began to kiss Rachel's neck and shoulder. You forget about turns and early mornings when you've waited so long to be with the person you desperately craved. So it didn't cross Quinn's mind that she probably shouldn't be running her palms up Rachel's back, dragging her nails down, and up again until she was raking her fingers through Rachel's hair. "_God_, this feels amazing." Quinn whispered.

She felt so close to Rachel. Lying underneath her, nothing in between them but sweat and come, as they softly touched one another with lips and hands. Rachel heaved herself from the crook of Quinn's neck to meet her wife's eyes. A smile blossomed easily and shyly as she stared. "I have two shows tomorrow." Rachel warned before ducking her head and sliding her lips against Quinn's.

"I know." Quinn breathed out as she trailed her hands back down to Rachel's ass. She cupped it and squeezed, getting her wife's hips to jut and rock against her own.

"Well, as long as you know." Rachel moaned out as her lips traveled down Quinn's chest. Simultaneously, both girls moaned as their cell phones rang out. They heard the noises and disregarded them as Rachel's kisses went lower. Heavy pounded sounded on their front door, but again, both girls didn't acknowledge the disruption. "What do you want, Quinn?" Rachel hissed out, her nails scraping down Quinn's pale skin as her mouth hovered over Quinn's pussy.

"_God, Rachel_, you. Just you." Quinn's body arched as Rachel glided her body down until her breasts were snuggly fit between Quinn's thighs.

Quinn's head thrashed back and forth on the pillow as she tried to contain herself. Every nerve in her body wanted to yank Rachel by the hair and force the girls' face into her wetness. "_Rach_…" The pounding the on the front door picked up, harder this time, accompanied by muffled yelling and the ringing of their cell phones once again.

Rachel whimpered, staring at Quinn as she watched her phone light up on the bedside table. "That's not Jesse; he has a show."

"Lydia and Jeremy have a key." Quinn's voice caught as she watched Rachel lick her lips. "_Fuck_, Rach, just keep going."

"Okay," Rachel assented, brushing Quinn's clit against her lips before sucking it into her mouth slowly. "But it could be important." Rachel sing-songed before ducking her head again.

Quinn's gripped Rachel's hair between her fingers and yanked slightly as her hips jerked. "Ask me if I fucking care." Quinn moaned as she sat up on her elbows to watch Rachel suck her. The muffled voice belonging to the person pounding on their front door increased in volume as Rachel rolled Quinn's clit around her tongue.

"_Fuck _Rachel, you look so sexy when you do that." Quinn hissed out in a strangled voice. She licked her lips as she watched Rachel lap at her wetness, up and down and back and forth. Her sensitive clit would spasm and swell each time Rachel passed it, sliding it back and forth. Quinn's teeth pulled her lower lip as she humped Rachel's face, her hips not even touching the bed. "Go inside." Quinn whined, bringing one hand back up to Rachel's head to push her down. Beside her, their cell phones simultaneously began ringing again, the pounding on their front door unrelenting.

With one more pass through Quinn's wetness, Rachel dragged her tongue down and circled her before pushing inside. "Oh, shit, _yeah_." Quinn hummed, her neck snapping back as her body arched.

Rachel moaned at the thick taste on her tongue as her nose nuzzled Quinn's clit up and down. "_Mmm_, close, baby." Quinn whimpered. Her face suddenly felt too hot and it only seemed to spread until her toes were curling against the mattress.

Her tongue wiggled and circled inside Quinn, hardly breathing as her wife's trembling thighs suffocated her. Rachel felt the walls clench around her tongue and pushed harder and deeper inside of Quinn as her nose flicked the hard clit rapidly. "_So _fucking close now." Quinn grabbed the hand resting on her stomach and brought it up to her breast, using her own hand to make Rachel squeeze as her body stiffened through its orgasm; shaking so hard that she thought her bent knees would give out on her.

With one last thrust inside Quinn and one more pass of her nose against Quinn's wet clit, Quinn came with a low throaty moan, both hands stilling in Rachel's hair, her body suspended, head thrown back and eyes closed, before she sank back down on the bed. Rachel emerged between Quinn's thighs, face shinning with Quinn's wetness, and crawled up her wife's body to find her lips.

As an afterthought, Rachel grabbed the still-ringing cell on the bedside table and answered in breathlessly. "Rachel Berry's phone how may I help-"

"Answer the _fucking _door before I piss all over your welcome mat!" Rachel blinked back at the phone, seeing that the call had been disconnected, and glanced back at Quinn.

Exhausted, Quinn ran her fingers through Rachel's hair. "Who was it?" She panted, now realizing that the pounding at the front door had ceased.

Rachel rested her sweaty cheek against Quinn's and listened to the sound of her wife's breathing. "Santana." She mumbled, enjoying the sensation of Quinn's fingers raking softly through her hair.

Quinn swallowed thickly, mouth too dry for it to have any really relief. "Oh."

They were silent for a moment, reveling in the heat of one another. "We should probably get that." Quinn murmured, her eyebrows knitting as she continued to run her fingers through Rachel's hair.

Rachel's expression was thoughtful. "I suppose we'd better. She did mention something about relieving herself in the hallway if we didn't." Again they were silent.

"Shit, we better go." Quinn said just as Rachel rushed to get off of her, both quickly jumping out of the bed to find clothes to throw on.

"It's about fucking time!" Santana roared as she quickly waddled her way into the apartment, pushing passed a stunned Rachel and Quinn as she made a beeline for the bathroom. They watched her go, trading surprised looks, before turning back to the door.

There, in the doorway, was a slightly awkward Tina and a beaming Brittany. Tina waved nervously as Rachel and Quinn continued to look confused. "You texted about getting me and Brittany an audition?" Tina asked, looking between both girls.

Suddenly Quinn's face cleared as she remembered the text she had sent them the night of the benefit before getting into the cab. "Oh, shit." She mumbled, her hand going to her face.

"Yeah, you assholes!" Santana called out from the bathroom just as Brittany bounded forward to inspect the apartment and then going right for the kitchen. "You text us then shut your phones off for most of the weekend, don't return _any _of our calls, and then don't answer the freaking door for a pregnant woman who has been in a car for two days! And for the record," Santana continued to bellow from behind the bathroom door. "Pregnant women have an _excellent _sense of smell! This place is foul!"

Tina blushed as brightly as both Quinn and Rachel, and Quinn hastened to change the subject. "It took you two days to get here?" She asked, her eyebrow quirking in disbelief.

Tina set down her bags just inside the apartment. "Where made a lot of stops." She said, emphasizing the length of their journey with an eye roll and a shake of her head.

The toilet flushed and all three girls spun around as Santana exited the bathroom, a towel in her hands as she dried them, smirking. "Seriously, though; Berry, Q, this place is going to make me vomit." She said, her teeth clamped together, a frozen, mirthless smile on her face. "Please open a window and Frebreze the shit out of it."

"Oh!"

"Yeah!"

"I'll just-"

"And I'll-" Both girls quickly moved, Rachel heading to the bedroom while Quinn dashed to the kitchen. There she found Brittany sitting on top of the counter, Quinn's "cheesy" potato casserole out beside her, as she forked some into her mouth.

"This is good, Q, you gotta give me the recipe so I can make it for San and the baby."

"Sure, B." Quinn answered as she got the Frebreze out from beneath the sink and raced to the bedroom, spraying as she went.

"You eating in there, B?" Santana called out, already on her way to the kitchen, eyes wide by the idea of food.

"I'm _so _sorry about this, guys." Tina apologized as she followed after Quinn, Rachel already throwing the living room windows open. "When we got your text Thursday night, we dropped everything and got into the car. We were so excited and wanted to talk to you long before the audition."

Now that she was done with her task—Quinn was busy moving into the bedroom to Frebreze the area and light candles—Rachel turned to Tina and gave her a quick hug. "Honestly, Tina, _we _should be apologizing. We've been so wrapped up in…well…_each other_, that we forgot. We're such bad friends. Of _course _you wanted to come right here, this is your big break!"

Tina beamed back, bashful but excited. "Thank you so much for doing this. I can't wait to quit my job at Jane Adams. I-I'm ss-ss-soo excited to be away from there."

Rachel bit her lip as she winced, very aware that Tina stuttered whenever she spoke of her job teaching at the dangerous school. "Yeah, well, happy to help, Tina. That stutter will be gone in no time." She smiled encouragingly. "And besides, it's Quinn you should be thanking. She's the one who set up the audition."

It was Tina's turn to wince. "There is, however, a small favor we need to ask for."

Rachel was nodding her head. "Anything, of course. Whatever I—_we_—can do to help of course, we will. I'm sure you'd like some vocal training, which, may I just say, is wise considering the fact that you've probably gone quite a while without any practice. We'll run scales and I'll make sure your voice is ready for the audition. Naturally, if you'd only taken my advice in high school, these exercises would already be in your repertoire. You'll just have to look back on that in regret and move forward. I'm happy to help." Rachel beamed, hands behind her back.

Tina blinked quickly, very aware that she was standing in front of Rachel Berry. Not just the woman who had appeared so lost in her love on her wedding day, so adorable in _A Date a Month_, so fierce in _Which of You, I Love_, or so strong in confident in her interviews. "Actually, Rachel," Tina began slowly. "We just need a place to crash."

Rachel's eyes widened as she slowly nodded her head. "Um…" Her lips smacked as she ran that thought over. Tina, Brittany, and a _very _pregnant Santana living with them. No sex. Invasion of privacy. A pregnant Santana Lopez. Hell, _just _Santana Lopez. No sex! "Well…" Rachel started, her eyes unseeing as she weighed everything. She glanced up to see Tina biting her lip nervously.

_Are you heartless?_

_Um…_

_You can have sex with Quinn _after _they leave!_

_Um…_

_Rachel! _

_What! I'm thinking! _

_Seriously?_

_Oh shut up. You have _not _been missed!_

"Yes," Rachel finally said, shaking off the voice in her head as she nodded emphatically. "Of _course _you may stay, Tina. We won't mind at all."

"Oh good." Santana mumbled around the spoon in her mouth as she wobbled out of the kitchen, her one hand supporting her lower back. "You got them to agree to us crashing here. Great. Well, the car is in front of the building with my shit in there. Why don't you grab it after Q changes the sheets in the bedroom; mama wants a nap."

Rachel forced a pained smile just as Quinn finally exited the bedroom, empty Fabreze bottle in her hand. "What I miss?" She asked, looking from Rachel to Tina to Santana to Rachel. Rachel smiled grimly back and then winced at the sound of a bowl breaking in the kitchen.

"Sorry!" Brittany called out. "Quinn, I drop your potato thingy!"

"And, Q, we're gonna need some meat up in here." Santana said through a yawn. Quinn's incredulous gaze locked with Rachel's as they wordlessly communicated their current hell.

"Won't this just be lovely."

X

"This is _not _acceptable! We can just pay for a hotel room for them until Monday; I'm _not _having them stay here!" Quinn hissed as she lugged three different suitcases down the long hallway towards their apartment.

Rachel grimaced; and not just because she had two heavy suitcases of her own to heave. "And as soon as Jesse gives back your credit card that would have been my plan as well. Do you really think that I want them here now that we're doing naughty touching? Cause no, Quinn, that's the _last _thing I want!"

They both dropped the suitcases down in front of their apartment door and frowned at one another. "Quinn," Rachel began carefully. "I'm very happy—um…happy_ish—_to see them, but I don't necessarily want them staying here either. But Tina is nervous about the audition. They are nervous about getting around New York without a guide. They're not sure how to prepare for the audition. And furthermore, whether Santana wants to admit it or not, she wants to spend time with you. I'm sure all three of them are very tired and would like to go right to sleep. It's late. Tomorrow we'll be at the theater for most of the day. Monday we can show them around the city, but again, I'm sure Santana would prefer just staying here, and later on Monday they'll have their audition before heading back to Lima. Hardly enough time for them to drive us crazy. Okay?"

Quinn's tongue clucked against the roof of her mouth as she folded her arms. Tina she didn't mind. Brittany was a passable guest. But Santana? A nine-month pregnant Santana? "She just better not go in labor, Rach. Cause if she does, _you're _delivering that demon spawn _all_ by yourself, and I won't so much as boil the water." She gritted out.

"That's ridiculous, Quinn." Rachel said, rolling her eyes as she picked up a suitcase. "Boiling water is an old wives' tale. It would be _much more _beneficial-"

"You know what I mean!" Quinn hissed before picking up the suitcases and hauling them inside. Rachel blew out a breath as she followed in after Quinn. She could tell that it was going to be a difficult visit for her wife.

"Where are Santana and Brittany?" Rachel heard Quinn ask as she set down Santana and Brittany's bags.

Tina grimaced and muted the television from her place on the living room couch. "The bedroom, sorry." Quinn whipped around with wide eyes as she looked at Rachel.

"She's pregnant, Quinn." Rachel tried to appease. Quinn sucked on her teeth before running a hand through her hair.

"Fine. But tomorrow I'm ordering a bed and they can sleep in the living room." Rachel watched her wife walk off toward the closet where she began to pull blankets and sheets from within.

"I'm really sorry about this, Rach." Tina apologized again as Rachel collapsed down next to her on the couch.

Rachel waved her off. "It's fine, Tina. Really. I'm happy you guys are here."

Tina smiled as her eyes circled the apartment. "This place is _really _great. You guys have done so well for yourselves."

Rachel beamed. "It's Quinn. She got us here. She made this place a home. It's Quinn." She shrugged with a smile, proud of what Quinn had done.

"I would really like to see your show tomorrow. Do you think you could get us tickets?"

Rachel smiled again, more than pleased. "Of course! I'm honored that you'd even ask." But then she was rolling her eyes. "I'm not really sure Santana would be interested, though."

Tina chuckled before turning towards Rachel. "Actually," She whispered. "Santana is probably the most excited. She doesn't shut up about your movies." She moved even closer. "And she may have a poster from _Which of You_ hung up in her bedroom."

Rachel gasped and looked away from Tina, trying to make sense of it all. Santana Lopez…her _fan_? "You _are_ kidding, right?"

Again, Tina giggled. "Nope. Saw it myself. Brittany told me that Santana ordered it online. Claims the 'baby' made her or something." Both girls were laughing—Rachel's laughter was a bit awed—when Quinn made her way over to them.

"What's so funny?" Quinn asked, still frowning. Rachel rolled her eyes at Tina.

"Stop being such a sourpuss, Quinn." Rachel admonished.

"I'm not being a sourpuss." Quinn mumbled, laying out blankets on the floor. "Tina, is it all right if you sleep on the floor tonight? Tomorrow you can have the couch I just don't want Rachel to be sore for her shows."

"That's fine." Tina responded at the exactly same moment Rachel said. "Nonsense, Quinn."

"Rach, really. It's more than fine." Tina said, smiling at Rachel. "I have no qualms with sleeping on the floor for one night. Especially after all your generosity."

"Well…if you're sure." Rachel smiled, _very _pleased that she would be getting the couch. But as she watched Quinn set up for the night beside her, moving the coffee table out of the way, Rachel was less sure. "Wait…you're not sleeping on the couch?"

Quinn's eyebrow quirked. "Rach, even if I slept behind you, you'd still find some way of pushing me off; you hog the bed, the small couch will be no different. I'm safer here." Rachel frowned as she pulled the blanket up to her chin; she was liking the intrusion less and less all of a sudden.

"Can I at least have a kiss goodnight?"

Quinn dropped the blankets in her hands and stood up straight, staring down at a suddenly unsure Rachel. "Of course you can." Quinn responded softly. She reached out to take Rachel's hand and squeaked when her wife pulled her down on top of her.

"Stop being a sourpuss." Rachel pouted, but her voice registered a bit deeper to be playful.

Quinn responded by burying her face in Rachel's warm neck and inhaled deeply. "I just want it to be you and me." She replied petulantly. Rachel sighed loudly, very aware that Tina was behind them on the floor, and slowly ran her fingers through Quinn's hair.

"I know, me too."

X

Tina moved onto the couch at six Sunday morning as soon as Rachel hit the elliptical and Quinn went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. When Rachel went off to the theater, Quinn was grumbling on her way to the grocery store, pissed she had to make the special trip so that Mama Lopez could get her meat on instead of being at the theatre with Rachel. Left to their own devices, Quinn just _knew _that Santana and Brittany were going to snoop through their apartment and was desperately hoping that they didn't find the box of sex toys the girls had received as a wedding present from Jeremy, Lydia, and Jesse. But she didn't have much hope.

Luckily, when she arrived home with bacon, pork chops, steak, and the whole rack of baby backed rips Santana had requested while drooling, Santana was asleep again. "Quinn, do you think I could use that thing I found in the back of your closet to massage Santana's back?" Brittany had asked as soon as Quinn stepped through the door. "Cause I think it's big enough." Tina's head immediately snapped back to the television, face beat red, as Quinn stared at Brittany in a combination of disbelief and anger.

Once Santana was up, she took her damn time getting ready, and the four of them were off to the theatre. Santana started weeping the moment Rachel stepped on stage and possibly clapped harder than Quinn. But no one made more noise than Brittany.

Between shows, Quinn took the three girls to the deli around the corner for lunch. Although she would have paid regardless, the fact that Santana made _sure _that the waitress handed the pissed-off blonde the check made her suddenly envision dining and dashing; she doubted Santana would have been able to move quickly enough to skip out on the check.

Everyone was in agreement that they'd also see Rachel evening show. They got there early, and while Santana was snoozing loudly in the front row of the orchestra seating beside a bored Quinn, Tina and Brittany were backstage with Rachel while she showed them around. They met the cast and happily sat in front of Rachel's vanity while she gushed about performing.

Quinn was tired. She was annoyed. And she was horny. The fact that she wouldn't be going home to sleep with her wife was making her even angrier. She wasn't sure _why _she was so upset, however. She _wanted _Tina and Brittany to become successful. She understood why they were staying with her and Rachel. And she could certainly sympathize with Santana's pregnant behavior. Quinn just didn't like the fact that she and Rachel's sex-bubble had been popped so soon.

Or maybe she was just annoyed because Jesse St. James' voice kept running through her head on repeat.

Quinn only wanted a few days of pure bliss with Rachel. That was all. Come Tuesday she would be leaving for California to work out the details of Matt Rutherford and all her other boys' movie contracts. She wouldn't be seeing Rachel for almost two days. And then Kurt would be coming into town late Thursday to work on his new project. After that, Mercedes would come to record over the weekend and Sam and his band after that. Then it was on to Ohio to work with Puck.

How much time would that take away from seeing Rachel? When in Ohio, she'd be staying in Lima at the Berrys', would she run into anyone she didn't want to see? And then there was the daunting realization that she was _busy_. Don't get her wrong, Quinn enjoyed being busy. She just didn't like it much when it took her away from Rachel. Did she have too many clients?

"_Breadstix!_" Quinn jerked at the outburst and out of her musings at the same exact time Santana's eyes popped open, startled out of her own dream (fantasy?). As Santana rubbed her eyes, Quinn blew out a breath and tried to ignore the feeling that she was losing Rachel at the exact moment when she felt they had finally worked out all their shit.

She would just have to make it work. She would do what she'd have to—be successful, help her friends, keep Rachel safe—all while making sure that her marriage came first.

X

Brittany, Tina, and Rachel were happily jumping and babbling away about the show as they made their way into the apartment, Quinn just behind a slow-moving Santana. But she wasn't annoyed. No. Rachel—while they drove in a cab separate from Tina, Santana, and Brittany—had whispered in Quinn's ear that she may be getting lucky that night. They would have to be quiet, but since the bed Quinn ordered had arrived and had been set up in the living room, they would have the bedroom to themselves.

Santana hit the kitchen as Brittany and Tina went into the bedroom to change, so Rachel took the semi moment alone to approach her wife with a smile. "How you holding up, wifey?"

Quinn smiled back tiredly as she laced her fingers behind Rachel's neck. "Did I tell you yet how amazing you were today?" She whispered in Rachel's ear. "Both performances were _perfect_." Rachel smiled shyly. "Seriously though, Rach, that thing we aren't supposed to talk about-"

"Quinn Fabray," Rachel warned, covering Quinn mouth with her hand. "_Don't _say it!"

"I won't." Quinn promised with a smile behind Rachel's hand. "But it's in the bag."

Rachel flushed happily as she dropped her hand to join the other on Quinn's hips and squealed excitedly. "I hope so."

"It's a sure thing." Quinn breathed out, her lips skimming Rachel's neck. "Much like what will be happening tonight." As she kissed Rachel's neck softly and with much promise, both girls were vaguely aware of the bedroom door shutting and the soft approaching footsteps. Perhaps _too_ soft.

They didn't react, however, too caught up in what they were doing. That is until they both felt the tight grips on their arms. Their muffled protests of being separated over-lapped.

"Santana!" Quinn cried out, pissed, just as Rachel exclaimed, "Brittany!"

"Enough of that boring shit, Q, you and me have places to be."

"What are you _talking _about?" Quinn hissed, trying with all her might to elude Santana. It was slightly terrifying that the pregnant girl's grip was so unrelenting. Rachel wasn't haven't much luck either. Brittany was holding both of Rachel's arms behind her back as though she was bored with the proceedings despite how hard Rachel was trying to throw her off.

"You and me are getting out of here, Q; deal with it." Quinn was shaking her head emphatically as her gaze found a desperate Rachel's.

"But-but-but!" Rachel stuttered, not at all liking the idea of being apart from Quinn. She was tired, she was bound to pass out before Quinn got home. Which meant no naughty touching that night; just like the miserable night before—the sex with Quinn before Santana, Brittany, and Tina arrived didn't count; that was early evening sex. _Much _different from late night sex, obviously, because late night sex was always fast and furious. Or it will be once Rachel starts having it.

Quinn was also horrified with this new change of events.

_Hit her!_

_She's pregnant! _

…_So? _

_You raise a _great _point! _

But of course she couldn't hit her. And not just because Brittany was holding Rachel captive and Quinn was fairly certain that if she _did _hit Santana, Brittany would most likely eat Rachel or something.

"Tina!" Rachel called out desperately, feet starting to flair in the air in her attempt to buck Brittany. "Do something!"

Tina shrugged helplessly at her side. "Sorry, Rach, they're my ride back; Santana threatened to leave me on the side of the road if I didn't let her take you."

Rachel blew out a breath, fluttering her bangs, as Quinn gritted her teeth and planted her feet. But Santana's baby must be on steroids or something, it was the only explanation as to why the girl was able to drag her towards the door.

"We'z be going now." As Santana yanked on Quinn's hand, Quinn desperately tried to place one last kiss on her wife's lips. Rachel surged forward, lips puckered and eyes tightly closed, but Brittany's firm grasp around Rachel's waist prevented her from getting far. Her flailing legs and outstretched hands were the only thing Brittany hadn't managed to contain.

Quinn whimpered loudly, her eyes on Rachel, as Santana dragged her out of the apartment. Rachel looked as lost and miserable as Quinn felt, and suddenly Quinn was wondering what _was _so wrong with hitting a pregnant woman.

Quinn was despondent and silent as she stared out the window of the taxi. She looked exactly like a puppy that was being taken away from its owner. She continued to stare until her and Rachel's apartment building was no longer in sight, and then Scary Quinn hit.

"What the _hell _is your problem, Lopez?" Quinn hissed. Santana pursed her lips as she rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest in exasperation. "Where the _hell _do you get off kidnapping me? You just can't come in here and think _my _world stops because you showed up? Are you seriously _still _that egotistical and delusional? Doesn't it matter that I had _plans _tonight to-"

Quinn's monologue was broken off when Santana's loud sobs started to fill the cab. Her arms dropped to her sides as fat tears crashed down her cheeks, startling Quinn right out of her rant. "Oh, _God_." Quinn mumbled as she repositioned her arms across her chest. She rolled her eyes and flicked her gaze out the window as Santana sobbed on.

"You don't wanna see _meeee_!" Santana whined through her tears, her eyes screwed up tightly. Quinn's head fell back against her seat as she glanced towards the heavens through the taxi's roof, praying for the strength, before sharing awkward shrugs with the cab driver via the review mirror.

With an awkward pat to Santana's shoulder, Quinn winced her apology. "There, there, S."

"But you _hate _me!" Santana continued to sob.

Quinn sucked on her teeth as she huffed before she was schooling her features and offering her crying friend a sympathetic smile. "It's not that, Santana. I just _really, really _wanted to be with Rachel tonight."

Santana was sniffling as she wiped away her tears. "To have sexy times."

Again, Quinn sighed. "Yes, Santana, for sexy times."

"I haven't had sexy times in a while. I'm too p-pregnant!" Santana wailed.

Quinn nodded sympathetically. "And if you _could _have sexy times, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you be upset if three of your old friends burst in and took you away from having sexy times?"

Santana was still sniffling as she nodded. "Yes." She answered sadly.

"Exactly. So my anger doesn't mean I hate you or don't want to see you, but I'm just upset because I wanted to be with Rachel. I'm going to be traveling soon and won't have a lot of time."

"Okay." Santana croaked out as the taxi pulled over right in front of a bar.

"So no more tears, right?" Quinn asked slowly, half wincing, hoping Santana would stop her crying.

"No more tears." Santana managed to say with a smile.

"Great. Now why the hell we are at a bar when you are fifteen months pregnant?"

That brought on a fresh wave of tears.

Almost twenty minutes later, the two women were seated at a table outside of the crowded bar. Quinn had been distracted, texting back and forth with Rachel, and was surprised when four shots were placed in front of her. "What's this?" Quinn asked suspiciously as she looked across the table at a beaming Santana.

"I thought since I can't drink, you'd do it for me." Santana smirked. Quinn narrowed her eyes; all of a sudden it seemed that Santana had played her.

Quinn eyed the four shots and started shaking her head. "S, I'm not doing four shots. You're out of your mind."

"But Q, come _on_. Like I said, I can't drink. I'm living vicariously through you! And I miss my tequila!"

"Out of the question."

"Is this any way for the godmother of my unborn child to act? I _asked _for one freaking favor, Q! All you gotta do is take the damn shots!" Santana fumed before sipping on her water. Quinn was frozen, not at all expecting the sudden outburst. But it was preferable to the tears. She wanted to avoid those. And that's why she lifted the first shot to her lips. "Yayy." Santana clapped, her face a picture of boredom besides her small smirk.

Quinn rolled her eyes at the classic Santana behavior before downing the tequila. She wasn't use to it at all, not having had any since high school with the girl across from her. "Eck!" It burned all the way down just as it had done back then.

"Don't be a pussy, Fabray, you still have three more left." Santana mumbled as she took out a nail file from her oversized purse.

"Wait." Quinn said as she shook her head to clear it. "Did you just say that I'm your child's _godmother_?"

There was a silenced moment as the pair eyed one another; Quinn still confused and Santana looking royally pissed. The sounds of New York City surrounded them, infused with the laughing and talking of the people seated outside. But then it was suddenly broken when Santana rolled her eyes with a huff and went back to filing her nails.

"Yeah…but only because you're rich. It's not like I trust you and Berry with the kid or anything." Quinn stifled her smile and softly shook her head at Santana's lie. "On to shot numero dos, Fabray." Santana said as she waved her hand.

It didn't take Quinn long to get drunk.

"And it's like…I can't stop _touching _her, S! It's uncontrollable! She looks so pretty All. The. Time! And she's sexy, Santana. I'm not kidding, it's unnatural how sexy she can be! Her eyes get all dark and she has this insufferable smirk she wields like a _weapon_! I literally plan my day around that smirk. How can I get her to do it? When can I see it next? If I cancel _this _meeting and rearrange _that _meeting, can I go to the theatre of make her smirk against the vanity?"

"Because smirking against the vanity is _all _she's doing." Santana mumbled as she filed away at her nails, eyeing them to make sure they were perfect."

Quinn snorted loudly as a lopsided grin appeared. "I'd make her smirk_ multiple _times against that vanity."

"Clever, Q. I only _just_ figured out that thinly veiled double-entendre." Santana said dryly. "Drink." She motioned to the next fresh shot she had just ordered for Quinn.

Quinn didn't hesitate to swallow down the next shot before puffing away on the cigar Santana had provided; Santana _greatly _missed her cigars. And Quinn had been too drunk to protest. She just leaned forward as Santana sparked the lighter and rotated the cigar like her father used to do and the way Ainsley did.

"But isn't it weird screwing Berry with those manhands of hers?" Santana had asked after a long silence.

Quinn snorted again before she started laughing and shaking her head, getting her hair to sway. "I can _assure_ you, that her hands are a very big plus…_big _being the key word."

Santana smirked as she leaned forward. "Big, huh?"

"Totally. But like, good big. Soft and long. Perfect."

"Damn, Q! _Nice!_ And can I just say that you are a _much _better drunk now that you're with Berry. This is so much better now that you're all gay and into talking about sex. It got old _real _fast when you were so angry back then."

"Well Rachel makes me happy." Quinn breathed out around her cigar smoke. They were both quite for a moment, and when Quinn glanced at her old friend, she frowned dramatically. "Don't cry, S."

The tears in Santana's eyes were fat and heavy. "That's just so _beautiful_!" She sobbed with a smile. "Multiple smirks and manhands and happiness!"

Quinn leaned back in her chair and extended her arm flamboyantly until she was puffing on the cigar again. "Yeah…it is." She was really too drunk to mind Santana's whiplash-like hormones.

Santana wiped away her tears and seemed to have collected herself. "I actually had a bet with Bitts that you were only with Berry for the money."

Quinn nodded emphatically and moved to the edge of her seat. "I thought I was too! But like, I _so _wasn't! I was _totally_ gay for Rachel in high school and didn't even know it!" Quinn proclaimed as she threw her arms in the air.

"And to think, all those times B and I had sex at our sleepovers and you were passed out next to us. We could have woken you and you wouldn't have cared."

Quinn's brow furrowed as she held her cigar aloft. "No…I think I still would have cared…"

It got quiet again; Quinn's lips pursing in disgust as she imagined how many times her friends had sex with one another as she slept soundly, as Santana did the same with a dreamy expression. "And don't worry, Q." Santana said softly with an almost-smile around her straw. "I won't tell anyone."

Again, Quinn's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Won't tell anyone what?"

"That you lied about Berry."

The tequila shot out of Quinn's mouth with such force, Santana's bangs fluttered. "What! When did I tell you that? I wasn't supposed to tell you that!"

Santana waved Quinn off with a flick of her wrist and an eye roll. "Please, Q, it's not like I'm telling anyone. What you're doing for Britts and me…I got your back." Santana stated with a light shrug. "Does Berry at least know?"

Quinn glanced around, happy that no one had overheard their conversation and glanced back at Santana. "Yeah, she knows."

Santana finally placed her nail filer onto the table as she leaned forward with a smirk. "You're kidding me? You two are completely legit? All cards out on the table really in love?"

Quinn smiled widely as she nodded before taking a triumphant puff on her cigar. "Yep." _Well…sort of_, she consider as an afterthought.

"Damn, Q. I didn't think you had it in ya. You _finally _got out of your own way and made yourself happy."

"And I'm rich too."

"Hell yeah you are. How about a toast: to being rich and in love and making your old friend, who is _also _in love, rich."

"And to babies. Because you're pregnant and me and Rachel are going to be the godmothers."

"I didn't say anything about Berry." Santana said with attitude.

Quinn just smirked. "You didn't have to. I know you love her. Brittany told me you made her go see both of Rachel's movies half a dozen times."

Santana looked stricken as Quinn finished off her last shot. "The baby made me do it. The _baby _wanted to go see those movies!"

"And I'm _sure_ the baby also made you buy that poster of Rachel you have hanging in the bedroom. That's kind of creepy, by the way, and, as Rachel's wife, I'm going to have to ask you to remove it. The only person Rachel gives multiple smirks to is _me_."

"I didn't buy it for multiple smirks, Q! She's freaking badass in _Which of You!_"

"So we're both in agreement that the baby didn't buy it then, right? So just take it down, creeper."

By the time Santana and Quinn were stumbling to the apartment—Quinn stumbling because she was wasted, Santana stumbling from holding up Quinn—Rachel, Brittany, and Tina were sitting around the living room laughing as they reminisced, quite drunk themselves on wine.

Tina had just told them about what happened after Quinn and Rachel's wedding, when she went home with Puck. "I mean, I waited all this time for _that_?" Tina boomed as Rachel held her stomach, silent tears rolling down her face. The sound of loud singing cut them off. Or maybe not so much singing as…well…noise?

"Doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo doo-doo…" The door was thrown open as Quinn slid into the apartment, big, dark sunglasses on her eyes and a scarf over her head. "I wear my _sun_glasses at night, so I can, so I can fight, _crime_ _in_ my neighborhood!"

"Not the words." Santana stressed, chuckling with a genuine smile on her face as she moved into the apartment. But Quinn couldn't be stopped. She jumped around and danced to the music in her head to a wide-eyed audience. Brittany was torn. She set down her glass of wine and was at Santana's side the minute she saw her, but she was desperate to rock out alongside Quinn.

"It's okay, Britt Britt." Santana mumbled, placing a sloppy kiss on Brittany's cheek. "Go dance."

Brittany skipped to Quinn's side and immediately started bobbing her head and twisting with Quinn. Tina and Rachel laughed loudly, knocking into each other as they watched. Rachel quickly found the song on her iPod and Tina jumped up to join the blondes.

"I got her drunk, Berry." Santana smirked across from Rachel.

"I noticed." Rachel giggled, her joined hands against her cheek as she smiled brightly and watched her wife make an utter fool of herself. "I probably shouldn't film this." Rachel said to Santana as she whipped out her phone. "But I'm gonna." She stressed straight-faced.

"You best send me a copy, Berry."

"Wouldn't dream of not." She filmed the three girls dancing—Quinn was mostly in her own little Cory Hart-world—and followed after Brittany as she traveled over to Santana and starting wiggling her ass in her girlfriend's face.

"Yeah, baby!" Santana cheered, struggling against her enormous stomach to reach into her purse to grab a dollar bill.

Somehow through the cheering and laughing, a drunken Quinn realized where she was. "Rachel!" She yelled loudly and ran over to her wife. "Rachel." She slurred slightly.

Rachel giggled and tilted the phone up to film Quinn. "Yes, Quinn?"

"Rachel, I want to give you. Aaaa lap dance."

"Oooh _really_?" Rachel asked with a cheeky grin, looking through the viewfinder on her phone. "Should I keep the camera rolling for that?"

"What? No! Rachel!" Quinn pouted, stomping her foot. "This is _private!_"

Quinn grabbed Rachel's hand was dragging the girl towards their bedroom. "Go gets some, Berry!" Santana laughed, Brittany nodding snuggled up to her side.

"We should order a pizza!" Tina cheered, throwing up her arms but continuing to dance.

"I want my rack of ribs on top of the pizza!" Santana gushed, her wide eyes looking at Brittany.

"Whatever you want, San." Brittany promised before dropping a kiss on her girlfriend's lips.

Quinn and Rachel hurried into their bedroom, Quinn slamming the door behind her and practically shoving Rachel onto the bed. "I'ma give you a lap dance, superstar." Quinn promised, removing her sunglasses and tossing them clear across the room. Rachel stifled her laughter behind her hand and sat primly on the edge of their bed. This was basically how Quinn's honeymoon lap dance started: Quinn wasted and not at all in control of her actions. This lap dance was starting off just as funny as that one had.

"Should I put on music?" Rachel asked with a chuckle as Quinn sashayed over to her wife, her dance moves not even close to being sexy—just hysterical.

Quinn shook her head as she slipped in between Rachel's thighs. "Uh uh. This is my _jam_!"

Rachel snorted softly. "Your _jam_? Okay, you're not allowed to hang out with Santana alone anymore."

Quinn smirked, placing her hands on Rachel's thighs, and bent down. "Did you miss me tonight?"

Rachel smiled as she covered her nose delicately with her fist. "You reek of tequila and cigars, Quinn."

"Scared, Rachel? Cause I'm so _dangerous_." Quinn hissed out as she bit her lip, trying to appear sexy.

Rachel snorted loudly this time, her lips inverting to quell her desire to burst out laughing. "Okay, badass, let's get you showered and those teeth brushed." She guided her stumbling wife out of the bedroom.

"Thanks for making her smoke cigars, Santana!" Rachel called out over the music as she pushed Quinn towards the bathroom.

"Oh, you're not mad?" Santana asked from the couch where Brittany was rubbing her feet.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "No me gusta!" It took some effort to get Quinn into the bathroom, her wife still trying to dance.

Once inside, however, Quinn was warming up to the idea. "Are we going to shower together?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows at an amused Rachel.

"You bet your ass we are. Now hold still." Rachel untied the scarf around Quinn's head, but it was proving difficult.

"Boom chicka bow wow." Quinn was pumping her bent arms as then slowly started to unbutton her dress. "I'm going to have shower sex with Rachel Berry." She sang.

Out in the living room, Tina was shouting to be heard over the music as she ordered their pizza. "Yeah, I'll have two large pizzas, one with pineapple, anchovies, and baby back rips. One with extra cheese, extra mushrooms, extra broccoli, and extra pepperoni. What?" She shouted into the phone. "San, they don't have ribs."

"Fine, Britt, go make me ribs." Brittany bounded into the kitchen. "Jesus, shut that fucking music off I can't hear a thing!" Santana mumbled as she hoisted herself off the couch to turn off the music. Probably not the smartest move.

"_Fuck, Quinn! Uhhh, yeah, fuck, fuck, fuck!" _Tina dropped the phone. Brittany slowly moved out of the kitchen, eyes wide. Santana froze, hovering right over the couch.

"_God, Rach, I love how your fingers suck me in!" _

Tina covered her opened mouth with her hands. Santana collapsed down onto the couch, dazed. Brittany's eyes only got wider. The moans grew in volume; breathy, uneven.

"Um…maybe we should turn the music back on?" Tina hiccupped, eyes still on the bathroom door like the others. But no one made a move.

"_Suck on my tongue, Rach, suck on my tongue while I fuck you!" _

"Dios mio." Santana mumbled, biting on her thumb nail.

X

Incidentally, Clark loved Brittany and Tina. He immediately put Brittany in the cast of _Billy Elliot _and happily placed Tina in the chorus of _The Lion King; _she was to play a monkey. The _first _monkey to be exact.

With the Swaines connections, Brittany and Santana and Tina wouldn't have to do much legwork to find new apartments. Tina was desperate to live in New York City, but it didn't seem feasible financially. She would commute from Jersey and that was perfectly fine with her; as long as it wasn't Ohio. But everyone was in agreement that it would be best for Brittany if she lived close to Broadway so she wouldn't wind up in California or somewhere, completely lost, trying to figure out the subway system. It would be a stretch for Santana and Brittany to afford a place if it weren't for the fact that they were able to get a _very _good deal on a small apartment not far away from Rachel and Quinn's. Rachel smiled behind her hand when she found out. She had a feeling it wasn't a _good deal_ that got them the place.

At first, Rachel wasn't too keen on Santana being so close. But once Quinn told her that she and Rachel were to be the godmothers to the unborn Pierce/Lopez baby, she was onboard. Which was an understatement.

Both she and Santana were in tears as they talked about all the little girly clothes Rachel was going to buy the baby. Brittany just watched on, confused, before asking Quinn and Tina if the baby needed clothes in the womb.

Tina was the most excited though. Although she liked being a teacher, she was truly excited to get out of Ohio and away from Jane Adams Academy. Her very real stutter was already fading since her time in New York.

They three girls were in and out of the city in a New York minute, it seemed. They would be back, hopefully in a week or so, and Quinn and Rachel were actually both a little sad to see them go. But only just a little. After all, now they were back to only each other.

X

She said she'd stay up. She _promised _she would never fall asleep. But Quinn could only chuckle adoringly as she stared at Rachel, snoring loudly, beside her on the bed. Quinn quickly checked the clock beside her as it flicked to one-twenty-five. Quinn raked her fingers through Rachel's disheveled hair distractedly before turning back to her book. It really was no use to read it; she had been on the same page for nearly a half hour.

Quinn blew out a breath and checked the time again. Any minute now the phone would ring. She placed down her book in resignation and turned over to face Rachel fully. She knew that when she slept, she looked peaceful. Rachel had taken enough pictures of Quinn when she was conked out to know this. She was her most angelic when asleep. But Rachel, Rachel was just _sexy_ when she slept. Her mouth parted and hair tousled and her long legs exposed…

And maybe Quinn should think Rachel looked cute while she slept. Or adorable. Or even…well, her wife _did _snore... But to Quinn, Rachel just looked hot. Fuckable.

Quinn licked her lips as her eyes traced down Rachel's naked body. She really _should _wake her. Rachel would want to be awake for when the call came. So what if Quinn got some in the process. It wasn't _entirely _selfish.

She jumped slightly when the phone vibrated in her palm. Too caught up in staring at Rachel. Quinn smiled as she felt the tickle repeat in her hand and brought her cell to her face to make sure. _Double-check _before she got her hopes up. This was it. The thing they weren't going to talk about because they didn't want to jinx it. Rachel didn't even flinch in her sleep. Quinn could have left the ringer on for all it would have disturbed her sleeping wife. Sleeping beauty. Sleeping sex goddess…

Quinn shook her head and sat up, realizing Rachel's phone was still vibrating in her hand. She took a deep breath and answered. As the voice told her what she knew they would, Quinn smiled wider and bounced a little on the bed. "Yes, yes, thank you. I'll tell her!" Quinn laughed loudly and hung up. She slunk back into the bed and didn't hesitate to roll on top of Rachel.

"Rachel, baby," Quinn cooed, hardly containing her excitement, tears prickling behind her eyes. "_Rrrrachel_." Rachel groaned sleepily but fisted her hands in Quinn's hair in response. Her body automatically started to respond to Quinn's body on top of hers. "Baby," Quinn tried again, whispering low in Rachel's ear. "Remember that thing we weren't talking about?"

Rachel groaned again, but her thigh slipped in between Quinn's. "Rach? Remember that thing you _really _wanted?"

"I was just having the most _purrrfect_ dream." Rachel mumbled, her hands keeping Quinn close.

"Well wake up, superstar, because things are more perfect out here."

"_Mmmm_," Rachel moaned, her lips sinking in to Quinn's skin. "Because you're naked?" Rachel purred.

Quinn smiled and brought her lips to Rachel's ear. "_Yesss_." She moaned. "And also because I just got a phone call." Quinn sang out.

"Tell them to leave us alone." Rachel pouted against Quinn's neck. "Everyone keeps bothering us."

Quinn laughed softly, her body rumbling against Rachel's. "Guess who just got her first Tony nomination?"

"_FUCK!_" Quinn's hand flew to her forehead as she recoiled back, Rachel sitting ramrod straight, hardly noticing the throbbing in her head where it just collided with Quinn's.

"Tony?"


	19. Chapter 19 Sleepless in New York

_So, there is only one more chapter after this one. Thank you so much for continuing to stick with this story despite the long time in between updates. It is very much appreciated. And thank you to all of those who review; your generosity is overwhelming. _

_I dedicate this chapter to friskyrobot. Thank you so much for being lovely and horny! And further thanks to yourkat for editing this and for all your help and comments; you're the sweetest despite your evil ways. _

Chapter Nineteen: Sleepless in New York

"Do you like that, Quinn? Huh? Can you feel how deep I am? Do you like how hard I'm fucking you? I want you to take it, baby. I want you to take it _all_. I'm never going to stop fucking you. After I make you come and come hard, I want you to ride my face. I want you to bounce on top of me as you scream my name. Are you going to do that for me, baby? Huh? Are you going to let me fuck you like this all night?"

Quinn swallowed thickly as her neck arched on the uncomfortable living room floor. Her shoulders were burning and it felt as though her neck would snap soon it was so taunt. "Rachel?" Quinn husked out, throat bone-dry from exertion.

"Yeah, Quinn? What do you wanna say while I'm three fingers knuckle-deep inside of you, humping your thigh as I drip down your leg? Tell me baby, tell me."

"Rachel…I don't think…I like you…anymore…now that…you're a…Tony nominated…actress…"

Rachel's forehead crashed down onto Quinn's shoulder as her pace increased inside her wife. Her hips jerked furiously as she continued to piston against Quinn's bare thigh. "_Fuck_, say that again, Quinn, tell me again what I am!"

"Rachel," Quinn mumbled with difficulty. "I'm one-hundred percent certain…_Shit, right there…_I'm going to pass the fuck out!"

It all happened like this: as Quinn held her quickly swelling forehead where Rachel's head had slammed into it, Rachel was bounding out from the sheets, naked, standing in complete shocked paralyses in the middle of the room. Her dark expressive eyes were wide as she stared off at nothing, completely unseeing, with her mouth agape in frozen astonishment.

Quinn rubbed frantically at her forehead, her narrowed, watering eyes on Rachel. A million and one expressions passed over Rachel's face. A million and one. The last—the _one_—stuck as it directed itself towards Quinn. Lust. They had landed on lust.

Rachel hungrily soaked in Quinn, just sitting on the bed nursing her bruised head, and took her in from top to bottom. In that moment, Quinn was very aware that Rachel Berry had left the building. Her wife and best friend had gone. In her place was something else.

"Tell me again." Rachel asked in a very slow, deep murmur. Her eyes were fixed on Quinn's and Quinn actually gulped at the visual.

"I just got the call-"

"_Say it_. Again." Rachel demanded, even slower. The edge in her voice was a growl, the words rolling off her tongue in a way that had all the hair on the back of Quinn's neck and arms rising.

Quinn swallowed down the combined arousal and slight fear she suddenly felt. Rachel Berry just found out she received her first Tony nomination. She was officially a ticking time bomb of sorts. Quinn always wondered how Rachel Berry would react when this moment came—in the two years they've been together and long before that even in high school. Squealing? A lot of jumping around? Clapping? Five different cell phones at her ears calling up everyone she's ever met ever to brag? All of the above? But now that Rachel was standing there, eyeing Quinn like _that_, Quinn suddenly regretted not trying harder to fall asleep. Because she was in for a verylong night.

Quinn awkwardly crab-walked naked back further on the bed, eyes fixed on Rachel as she tried to control her shallow breathing. Her wife tracked her movements, gaze flicking to breasts to stomach, to legs, to the V between her thighs. Quinn trembled slightly, suddenly feeling like prey in the midst of a hunt. She was at the edge of the bed, aware that Rachel's heavy breathing was filling the room loudly.

"You're a Tony nominated actress?" Quinn whispered, the question mark pulling her eyebrows up in hesitation, very aware that she was about to get jumped.

The pride swelled within Rachel, making her nostrils flair and her narrowed eyes light up. "You're damn _right_ I am!"

And then Rachel pounced. All flailing limbs and battle cries and Quinn would claim much later that Rachel shouted out "Victory is _mine!_"

As her wife's tongue delved into her mouth, Quinn recalled the first time Rachel acquired something she wanted: her role in _A Sweetness_. It led to a _very _nice make out session on the couch in the living room. But they were having sex now. And this was a Tony, not a role in an off-Broadway musical.

Suffice it to say, Quinn was wholly unprepared for the fuck storm upon her. And really, she couldn't find it in herself to care. She could still feel the dried tears on her cheeks when she had gotten the call informing her that her wife was a Tony nominated actress. And, in mere hours, Quinn would be boarding a plane to L.A. away from Rachel, for her meeting with Conduit Studios to discuss her clients' contracts.

It wasn't something they had talked about, either. Quinn only mentioned once that she would be leaving. Quinn didn't want to think about being away from Rachel, so she hadn't brought it up. She hadn't even packed yet. She was putting it off to the last possible second. If she didn't pack, it wouldn't be real. If it wasn't real, she wouldn't need to think about leaving Rachel.

So what if she lost a whole night's sleep because she was otherwise engaged making love to her Tony nominated wife? She could sleep on the plane. Or when she was dead. Which, by the fever Rachel was fucking her with, looked like it was going to be happening sooner rather than later.

And what's more, Rachel was a _completely _different person A.T. N. (After Tony Nomination). _Jesus_, what would her wife be like when she actually _won _the damn thing? Quinn shook off that startling thought. Her orgasm was approaching quite quickly.

Quinn wasn't exactly sure _when _Rachel slipped behind her, her hand in between Quinn's legs as her wife whispered in her ear with her breasts pressed into her back, but Quinn was almost certain it had happened after the fourth (fifth?) orgasm.

Success was by _far _Rachel Berry's biggest aphrodisiac.

A few rounds in their bed, two rounds on the living room floor from the sneak attack Rachel orchestrated when she innocently sent Quinn out to get a glass of water, and another round on the couch, and the pair had finally made their way back into their bed. They were lying on their sides facing one another silently before Rachel began to blush and ducked her head.

"I am _so _sorry about that." She mumbled bashfully as she buried her head into the pillow she was sharing with Quinn. Quinn teeth-y smile lit up the dark room, and she scooted closer to her.

"Because you love dirty talk?" Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear, just barely refraining from giggling outrageously.

Rachel blindly grabbed the neglected pillow and brought in down on top of Quinn's head once before she removed her crimson face from her own pillow and sat up on her elbow to stare at her smiling wife. "I'm so embarrassed." Rachel groaned lightly.

But Quinn kept smiling. "Don't be. It was…kind of…_interesting _seeing that side of you."

Rachel's eyebrow quirked. "Interesting?"

Quinn nodded, eyes trained on Rachel. "And hot."

Rachel ducked her head again, this time grinning, before she was facing Quinn. "What time's the flight?"

Quinn chuckled ruefully before she tousled Rachel hair. "Not enough time for _that _superstar. Flight leaves at six. Should have left already."

Rachel groaned again, but this time in annoyance. "Why'd you pick such an early flight?"

Quinn just shrugged, allowing it to get quiet again. "You should call your fathers and tell them the big news."

A soft smile made its way onto Rachel's face. "It's too early still. I'll call them later."

"But don't you want to share it with them?" Quinn asked, confused by Rachel's patience.

It was Rachel's turn to shrug before she was maneuvering her way closer to Quinn, half on top of her as she closed her eyes. "I have _you_ to share it with."

The sincerity in which it was said made Quinn's eyes flutter closed. She ran her fingers through Rachel's hair as she felt her wife smile against her chest. She knew what Rachel was thinking about. No, not Quinn. Tony. She wouldn't have her wife any other way.

But the time to pack was upon her. Quinn allowed herself only one full minute of raking her fingers through Rachel's messy hair before she huffed loudly. "I have to pack." She whispered. Rachel shook her head getting Quinn to giggle. "I _have _to, Rach."

"I already packed for you. Just lie here with me."

The sound of a bus loudly rumbling drifted in from the streets through their opened window. "You packed for me?" Quinn breathed out, slightly awed. Rachel nodded, her hand starting to trace up and down Quinn's side. "When?"

"A few days ago." Rachel puffed against Quinn's skin. "A Tony, Quinn…I-well, I can believe it…I just-" Rachel broke off and was smiling again. A very excited squeal erupted making Quinn beam.

Quinn's bemused expression morphed into a full-blown smile. Yes, she was unexpectedly pleased that Rachel had packed for her; it was such an intimate gesture—the picture of domestic bliss. But her wife's pending nomination was just too exciting. "We'll have to go shopping for a dress; there isn't much time." In her head, Quinn was already shifting through different looks for Rachel for the Tonys. She wanted her wife to exude confidence, professionalism, and sex appeal.

Quinn giggled when Rachel groaned. "Do we _have _to?" Rachel wasn't too keen on the idea of being dragged around store after store as Quinn vetoed dress after dress.

"Yeah, superstar." Quinn whispered in Rachel's ear before kissing the skin below. "I want you to look _perfect_ when you win."

Rachel dragged her head up until her chin was resting above Quinn's bare breasts. "_When _I win?" She asked playfully, her smile magnificent.

Quinn sighed with the weight of her happiness. "Yeah, Rach, _when _you win." She breathed out as she combed her fingers through Rachel's hair.

They stared at one another for a long moment before Quinn forced herself to get out of bed. It was far too cold in the bedroom in comparison to being under Rachel. "What should I wear?" Rachel asked as she slipped out of the covers. Quinn's eyes trained on the naked, tanned body while Rachel ruffled her dark hair and glanced around the bedroom. _How is it that she can look so adorable while being so sexy? _

Quinn shrugged, blinking harshly as she directed her attention to things that _weren't _her naked wife. "It doesn't matter." Why would it matter what Rachel wore to the airport just to drop Quinn off?

"I just want to be comfortable. Your suitcases are in the closet." Rachel said as she pulled out some yoga pants and a light zip-up from her drawer. Quinn noted that Rachel was dressing sans underwear; that wasn't helping her determination to leave.

Giving Rachel and her lack of underwear-clad body a wide berth, Quinn headed to the closet. She frowned when she saw two suitcases and two very large carry-ons. "You do realize that this is a two-day trip, right?" Quinn laughed as she pulled the suitcases from the closet.

"Quinn," Rachel began, placing her hands on her hips as she frowned at her wife. "You _do _realize that you have to pack for _every _occasion, correct? There could be time for sight-seeing, parties, fancy dinners, _casual _dinners, swimming, golf-outings-"

"Okay, okay; I get your point." Quinn laughed, lugging the suitcases out into the living room; wondering why the hell she'd be playing golf—but it would be fruitless to argue, especially when Rachel wasn't wearing underwear. Soon they were in a taxi on their way to the airport, lounging against one another silently as the early morning traffic sounded around them.

"You have my ticket?" Quinn asked as the taxi driver unloaded the luggage. Rachel nodded and started pulling the suitcases into the airport. Quinn wasn't too happy with this; she really wanted to say her goodbyes outside, where there weren't hundreds of commuters looking on. She followed after her wife, though, not really in the mood to start an argument. She figured Rachel would find it more dramatic if they were exchanging passionate kisses by security instead of curb-side.

But Rachel wasn't stopping. No, she was proceeding to check-point A, empting out her pockets, and removing her sneakers. "Rach?"

"Hmm?" Rachel asked over her shoulder and placing a carry-on onto the conveyer belt.

"Rach." Quinn simply stated, awed, realizing what was going on. Rachel had booked Quinn's ticket. Rachel had packed for her. Rachel was walking through the security scanners with her arms out, allowing the wand to pass over her body. Rachel was coming with her!

"Ma'am, you'll need to wait your turn." The security personnel told Quinn firmly. Rachel glanced over her shoulder and looked at Quinn's pale face.

"Are you okay?" Rachel was being so casual!

"You're coming _with _me?" Quinn asked as the security wand passed over her own body.

Rachel frowned as her head tilted. "Why wouldn't I be coming with you?"

Quinn blinked back, astonished. "You-you never mentioned anything!"

Rachel's eyebrows knitted. "Didn't I?" Quinn shook her head frantically and moved once she was cleared to proceed to her gate. "Are you quite sure I didn't tell you?" Rachel asked, throwing her carry-on over her shoulder and hoisting up the handle of her suitcase.

"Rachel! You have a show tonight! _And _tomorrow!"

As they stood in front of their gate, Quinn watched as the most peculiar expression washed over Rachel's face. It was so open yet so puzzled. "Do you _really _think I'd miss you're first big meeting, Quinn?" Quinn could only stare back, completely dumbfounded. It was, perhaps, a very big meeting. She'd go to Conduit Studios to hash out all the contracts for Matt Rutherford and all her other boys. She would meet with the studio about Jesse's musical war film. And, since Quinn _had _received a call asking if Rachel wanted to star in _A Sweetness _the film adaptation hours before, Quinn would need to start talks over that as well.

"But-but, Rach…you just received a _Tony _nomination!"

"Keep flirting with me, Fabray, and you'll join the Mile High Club." Rachel said with a smirk and an exaggerated wink.

"No!" Quinn suddenly said, covering her face with her hand to settle her racing thoughts. "You should be on stage! This is a big deal!"

"I know, Quinn." Rachel said calmly, placing her palm over Quinn's chest. "But the stage will be there tomorrow. I'm flying back here in the morning. I just wanted to be there for you because you're _always _there for me and this is a really big deal for you!"

Quinn blinked back the stinging tears as she glanced around the crowded airport. She heard the announcement for their flight and tried to will away her emotions while so many eyes were looking at them. She focused on the fact that Jesse was nowhere in sight—he was to be accompanying Quinn to L.A. as well—instead of the warm hand on her skin.

"What about Charlene and Ainsley?" Quinn croaked out, eyes still shimmering. She couldn't look at Rachel's soft gaze; she would lose it if she did.

"They fully understand, Quinn. Especially now that we know we did so well in the nominations Are you okay? You're not mad at me, are you?" She asked in a small voice.

Without caring about the on-lookers, Quinn took Rachel into her arms and shook her head frantically to reassure her wife. "I'm just so happy." Quinn mumbled into Rachel's ear as she held her.

She soaked in Rachel's strong embrace and felt her wife nod. "Me too, Quinn. More than I can express."

They continued to hold one another, despite the announcements, the commuters, and the slightly out of breath Jesse St. James that approached them. "I made it!" He declared. But they kept holding each other right up until the moment that the call for final boarding was announced.

Quinn didn't even care that Jesse was sitting with them and received the window seat. She just sat beside Rachel, tightly gripping her hand, as the plane taxied and took off. She fell asleep somewhere over Ohio as Jesse and Rachel excitedly spoke about the Tonys. She fell asleep against Rachel's shoulder as Rachel massaged her scalp absentmindedly. She awoke as the plane was making its final descent, Rachel's lips pecking hers into consciousness.

X

As soon as they were off the plane, Rachel was on her cell phone calling her fathers. She caused quite a scene with all her shrieking and jumping as she told them about her Tony nomination. She also got the chance as well to return the thirty-some-odd text messages from all her friends at Julliard, Lydia and Jeremy, and some of the glee kids that sent messages congratulating her. The three made their way through LAX, sunglasses on, suitcases trailing behind them, as they sought out their transportation.

The chuffer was holding a sign that read "Fabray," and Jesse handed the man his cued-up iPod playlist before slipping into the car. Quinn was just so happy to have Rachel with her that she even smiled throughout Jesse and Rachel's perfectly harmonized duet of _Party in the USA_—apparently they had been practicing every since Rachel's _first_ L.A. trip—and found herself joining in at times as she texted and emailed a few of her clients.

The driver dropped them off at the hotel and promised to pick them up in two hours for the meeting at Conduit Studios. Jesse mumbled something about a nap while Rachel giddily made her way to their room. "I got us the honeymoon suite." Rachel smirked over her shoulder as she slid the keycard home.

Quinn's eyebrow rose dramatically, suddenly wishing she had packed for herself. After all, since Rachel had worn lingerie the first time they made love, Quinn wished she could have packed a little something special for her wife since they were about to have a night in a fancy hotel room and Rachel was a Tony nominated actress—they should be celebrating. Something sexier than the lingerie she had worn during their honeymoon. Although, at the time, Quinn didn't see what was so wrong with the long champagne negligee. But then she was picturing Rachel in her pink negligee, cut so tightly to her wife's body leaving little to the imagination, and Quinn could suddenly understand and appreciate a more reveling look.

Rachel squealed loudly before swan diving onto their huge King-sized bed, giggling as she rolled around. Both girls were a little sore from their early morning marathon, but as Quinn watched Rachel be _Rachel_, her desire for the girl won out.

"We have time, you know, before the meeting." Quinn said as she stalked across the room closer to the bed. Rachel stopped her rolling and sat up on her elbows to meet her wife's eye.

"Is that so?" She asked mischievously. Quinn only nodded as she slid onto the bed, palms first, until she was hovering over Rachel.

"I can't believe you're here." She breathed out, her hazel eyes racing over Rachel's face. "And I can't believe you're a Tony nominated actress!"

Rachel chuckled deeply as she sank her fingers into Quinn's blonde hair. "I love it when you flirt with me." Quinn laughed and molded her body to Rachel's.

"You're leaving in the morning?" Quinn asked against Rachel's neck. Rachel nodded, her nails already scratching down Quinn's back. "And then I won't see you until Thursday afternoon." She said sullenly.

"Yeah," Rachel breathed out, securing her grip around Quinn. "You'll be there for sound check though, right?" Quinn nodded slowly, softly kissing Rachel's neck. "But Kurt will be there too." Another nod from Quinn. "I love that our old friends are in our life now, but is it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet?" Rachel whined, getting Quinn to laugh.

"We've had almost two years of peace and quiet." Quinn said as she looked down at Rachel. "And you _know _you want to brag to Kurt." Rachel's face exploded from the force of her smile.

"That _will_ be fun. I'm going to tell him all about the adorable things you do and say and how perfect our sex life is and-"

Quinn's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as she stared down at Rachel. "Rach, sweetheart…I was talking about your nomination."

Rachel's mouth formed the perfect O as she stared up at her wife before her face was swallowed up by her smile. "I can't _wait_!" She cheered with a fist pump. Quinn could only watch on and marvel, beyond shocked that Rachel's head went to their marriage instead of her Tony nomination.

"_Anyway_," Quinn continued on, trying to hide how much she just freaking loved Rachel Berry. "You'll also get to brag to Mercedes, Sam, and Mike when they come this weekend that you're a _Tony nominated actress_."

Rachel smiled hugely once again before smirking, moving closer to Quinn. "_Mmmm_, I like this foreplay."

Quinn's mind went to a dirty place before she asked the question that she had been dying to know. "How long were you planning to come here with me?"

Rachel quirked her head as she played with the ends of Quinn's hair. "Since you told me about your meeting."

Quinn shook her head and sighed, her eyes closing as she buried her lips against Rachel's neck. "I can't believe I get another day with you."

Rachel smiled and ran her hands down Quinn's body. "Well…if you would like to repay me, there _may _be a particularly ravishing negligee in your suitcase…" Rachel sing-songed in Quinn's ear.

Quinn jerked her head back and smiled, surprised, at Rachel. "I was _just _thinking that I wished I packed something for you!" She said as she jumped off her wife and hurried over to her suitcase. "Don't go anywhere." Quinn pointed at Rachel, the negligee balled-up in her hand.

"Wouldn't _dream _of it!" Rachel promised with a smirk as she lay back down, arms spread out wide on the bed.

Rachel couldn't really understand Quinn's thought process. Why _wouldn't _she be in L.A.? It was Quinn's big meeting. She would look all sexy and in charge, telling people what to do, and what she wanted. Wearing that hot-ass business suit Rachel picked out for her. Demanding things. Hazel eyes blazing hotly. "Quinn! Hurry up!" Rachel screamed suddenly, bounding from the bed as she ripped off her own clothes.

Rachel was just sliding on her thong as the bathroom door opened; she didn't have time to worry about the matching bra. Quinn was in her arms, kissing her hard, before Rachel could really take in the sight of Quinn's white lingerie.

Rachel had planned on telling Quinn that she picked it out with her wife's virginal past in mind. Wanted to joke about how pure she looked, yet naughty. But the only things tumbling from Rachel's mouth were moans and desperate pleas. The feeling of her hard nipples brushing roughly against the lace of Quinn's lingerie was making her pant.

"Bed!" Rachel choked out, running her flat palms down Quinn's back to cup her ass. "_Please_, Quinn, the bed!"

"_No_!" Quinn growled back, happy to scoop Rachel up with her hands full of her wife's ass, and slam her down on the on the wooden table that rested against the glass doors to the balcony.

Rachel trembled as she felt Quinn's lips wrap around her hard nipple while her fingers dipped below the edge of her thong. She felt herself slump down the glass door as her legs parted, happy to push down her underwear to her thighs and allow Quinn to do whatever she pleased. She gripped the table as best she could to keep herself from liquefying as her back arched and her neck bowed when Quinn nipped at her breast.

"_Mmmm_, I want to feel you too." Rachel groaned, fisting blonde hair as she watched through lidded eyes as Quinn sucked hard on the undersides of her breast. Quinn only shook her head, gripping Rachel's thighs and opening them wider, stretching the fabric of the thong in the process. She wanted to pout at Quinn's denial, but the way Quinn's nails and fingertips were roaming over her body was making anything other than breathing shallowly difficult.

Quinn took her time. She wanted to use her full two hours to her advantage; kissing and sucking on Rachel's neck as her hands kneaded Rachel's thighs and ass. As she kissed Rachel thoroughly, she squeezed and bounced Rachel's breasts, tugging and flicking her nipples as they grinded against one another.

Rachel thought she would orgasm long before the sex would even really start. She was so close so many times, just watching, legs trembling as the tips of her toes brushed the plush carpet, as Quinn laved at her stomach and her hands slid along Rachel's legs.

When Quinn finally pushed Rachel down on top the table to lie across its length and straddled her, Rachel was shaking and panting as she gulped to hang on. She ran her fingers through her hair and tossed her head back, looking up at the vision that was Quinn in her revealing lingerie, towering over her as she continued to dance her fingers up and down Rachel's body.

She couldn't take her eyes off of Quinn, she wouldn't blink. The predatory gleam in her dark hazel eyes, the way her breasts were pressed together and tipping out of the bodice, how the lingerie skimmed down into a perfect V at Quinn's thighs. Rachel could feel her pussy pulsate and her clit throb.

As Quinn's thumbs flirted with the strings of Rachel's thong on her thighs, Rachel decided to do the same. Not to touch, really; she understood that Quinn wanted to please her. But she had to look, had to see more. She cupped the backs of Quinn's legs and brushed the soft skin until she was pushing the lingerie aside to view Quinn.

"Oh, _fuck_." Rachel breathed out, rushing to push up onto her elbows to see more. Quinn's hungry expression didn't change, not at all embarrassed to be on display for her wife. Their sex seemed so natural, instinctual. Just another progression from where they started.

Without thinking, Rachel's thumb swiped at Quinn's wetness and took it to her lips to suck. "You taste so good." Rachel croaked before repeating the action. She moaned as she tasted Quinn again, and didn't hesitate to do it a third time, only, instead of tasting her wife, brought her thumb up to Quinn's lips. Rachel watched as Quinn's eyes slid shut as she tasted herself, her tongue peeking out to lick, and watched as Quinn's eyes fluttered open as she leaned down to kiss Rachel.

They both moaned loudly as their tongues glided wetly against the other, their lower bodies still grinding slowly, Quinn's bare pussy aligning with Rachel's.

"_Uh_! You're killing me, Quinn!" Rachel gasped as her wife started licking her neck again. She carved her nails down Quinn's back and gripped her ass while Quinn moaned into her neck. Rachel was so wet and ready, on the verge of orgasm several times. Every little thing Quinn did to her pushed her closer. It wouldn't take much, but Rachel knew that it wouldn't end with an orgasm. It would end with multiple. It would end with Quinn gasping out her need to feel Rachel over and over again.

The thought was making Rachel cling to Quinn fiercely. She mumbled and groaned and said nonsensical things that only made Quinn's hips move faster and her mouth feast deeper. "I just want you so much." Quinn puffed against Rachel's ear before ducking her head and driver harder. "All the time. Every way."

Rachel's body arched again as she swallowed with difficulty. She began clawing at lingerie, scratching until she could find skin. Quinn jerked Rachel's chin back until they were kissing eagerly again while her right hand scrambled to rid Rachel of her panties completely; they got as far as just passed Rachel's knees this time.

Rachel ripped her mouth away from Quinn's as a long finger finally slid through her wetness, ripping a moan so profound and guttural from her throat that it echoed out of Quinn's.

Quinn was back to controlling everything. She propped her elbow up on the table and positioned her thumb below Rachel's bottom lip to keep her eyes locked on her own. She softly rested her forehead on Rachel's to stare down at her while one finger became two inside her. She watched as Rachel gasped and whimpered, her hips moving faster to spur Quinn on, and felt the overwhelming desire to own and devour her wife.

"_Quinn_!" Rachel shouted as Quinn twisted her wrist, suddenly, thrusting down instead of in with such force that Rachel came almost instantly. Despite the fact that Rachel was dripping down her hand and arm, Quinn kept plunging her fingers powerfully until Rachel bucked forward and arched well off the table to throw her arms around Quinn's neck and pierce her nails into the pale flesh of Quinn's shoulders as she shook rigidly.

Quinn sat back slightly onto her heels to hold Rachel up, who was half lying half sitting, as the tremors continued to paralyze her. She couldn't move at all. So Quinn just held her as she felt the tingles zap through her body and her ragged breaths reverberate in her thundering ears.

"I'm going to need you to carry me." Rachel eventually said with a weak chuckle through her panting. She stroked Quinn wherever she could reach as she ducked her head into her wife's neck, softly kissing the straining neck.

Quinn hummed a response and brushed away the hair sticking to Rachel's sweaty forehead. It had been the most arousing thing to Quinn, working Rachel up for over an hour, touching her wife any way she liked, until finally being unable to take another moment of not making Rachel come. Rachel finally collapsed back onto the table, this time with a stronger chuckle, and looked up at Quinn with the most awed expression. She leaned down and softly kissed Rachel's dry lips over and over as they purred their satisfaction.

"Where are you going?" Rachel asked as Quinn slid off the table, reaching out her hand to stop or touch Quinn. Quinn smiled and kissed Rachel again, sucking on her lip and then tongue until she felt Rachel's hand reach down between her thighs and cup her pussy.

"To the bed." Quinn breathed out before licking along Rachel's bottom lip. "Join me?" She asked with a moan, feeling Rachel's thumb and forefinger stroke her distended clit. Rachel only nodded her reply, and although it was Quinn's idea to move, she suddenly couldn't help but fill her hand with Rachel's breast.

"Or we could do it here again." Rachel said, struggling for breath as Quinn leisurely fondled her rigid nipple, and she continued to stroke Quinn's clit.

"Just once more." Quinn whispered, raking her nail along Rachel's nipple before running her hand down her breast, over her stomach, briefly cupping her pussy, and down to her thigh. She squeezed Rachel's leg with her wet fingers, already soaked from cupping Rachel, and applied pressure until Rachel got the hint and swung her legs around and off the table.

Rachel whimpered as Quinn got to her knees. Unhappy that she was no longer touching her wife. "Soon." Quinn responded with her chin on Rachel's stomach, looking up at her as Quinn parted her legs wider. "I swear, Rachel, soon." Rachel's neck snapped back as Quinn's breath washed over her exposed and painfully aroused center. Her arms were already shaking as they supported her weight, her trembling legs useless. It only got worse when Quinn took Rachel completely into her mouth.

"_Fuuck_." Rachel breathed out, her head hitting the glass window as she felt her lips and clit being swallowed and sucked eagerly. Her wife's hands on her ass, thumbs spreading her farther from behind, Rachel's whimpers overlapped until they were almost screams. She became restless in her pleasure. Hips jerking and head bowing until she forcefully fisted Quinn's hair to keep her in place as she came.

But even though the thought of another orgasm, frankly, terrified Rachel at this point, having experience three very intense orgasms in such a brief period, she couldn't help but keep Quinn's head in place as she slowly and unhurriedly rocked her hips back and forth, up and down, against Quinn's still tongue.

She felt Quinn kiss her clit, open-mouth kisses that were as sweet and sexy as though she was kissing Rachel goodnight. Rachel yanked on Quinn's hair, forcing her neck back, until Quinn was staring up at her. The sparkle of wetness on Quinn's chin gleamed back at Rachel, and that was the only reason she was able to gather her strength enough to stand on her own. "Bed now." She commanded Quinn, moving her hand down to where that wetness lay on Quinn's chin to tilt her head back even more. Rachel fell to her knees and licked at the wetness and bit at Quinn's chin. "_Right _now."

A little later, Rachel's head was resting on Quinn's ankle as she watched Quinn regain her breath at the top of the bed. It was a sight to behold. Quinn's long neck was stretched and taunt as her pulse beat wildly beneath the flushed skin. Her chest heaved under the white lingerie so harshly that the tight fabric looked as though it might snap and begin unraveling. Quinn's long legs were sliding against its pair deliciously, toes _still _curling, as strong, white-knuckled hands crumbled the bedspread tightly.

But Quinn's face. _God_, Rachel couldn't stop smiling as she took in Quinn's joyous expression. It was more than satisfaction. It was more than contentment. She seemed so open and happy. And although it was quite a foreign expression on her wife's face years ago, it looked right at home now.

Biting her lip, Rachel slithered up Quinn's body grinning mischievously. "Quinn?"

"Hmm?" Quinn hummed back as she stroked her stomach with one hand as her other moved to rake through her long blonde hair. Rachel hummed right back as she obscured her face in Quinn's exposed neck, still smiling as she breathed her wife in.

Quinn noted the gesture by finally removing her palm from her hot skin and reaching over to grip whatever of Rachel she could reach—her hip. She couldn't force her eyes to stay open—too exhausted at the moment—but smiled as Rachel pecked her neck.

"Quinn?" Rachel asked again, quieter this time, a smiling whisper.

"Yes, Rachel?" Quinn responded, her eyebrow rising slowly, chest still lifting and falling raggedly.

Rachel allowed herself to just smile against Quinn, to soak up the moment. She had never been so happy. Never felt so complete. She felt invincible. "Will you be my girlfriend?" Rachel asked in a playful whisper, just beside Quinn's ear.

Quinn's laughter was silent—only her body and wide grin revealed anything—as she turned over and curled into Rachel. Somehow, without opening her eyes, Quinn's left hand found Rachel's and their fingers awkwardly twined where their wedding bands and engagement rings clinked softly.

Quinn was silent for a moment as she remained burrowed in between Rachel's naked breasts. She nuzzled a little as she smiled, loving the feel of Rachel's fingers scratching her head. "Does that mean we're going _steady_?"

Rachel concealed her smiled in blonde hair before kissing the top of Quinn's head several times. "_Yes_." Rachel whispered in between pecks.

Licking her chapped lips, Quinn hummed thoughtfully. "Do I get to wear your pin?"

Rachel ducked her head and kissed up and down the shell of Quinn's ear, over and over again. "_Mayyybe_. Only if I get to wear your letterman jacket."

Quinn blew out a breath against Rachel's chest as she began smothering Rachel's hip and back with her hand, kneading forcefully. "I'll have to think about this…it's a big step."

Humming back, Rachel nodded. "I think we're ready. When you've made your decision, pass me a note in study hall."

Quinn snapped her head back and her hair flew into place around her shoulders. She gazed down at Rachel with playful adoration before narrowing her eyes. "But if we get caught passing notes, I'll never be able to meet you at the malt shop for a milkshake with one straw."

Rachel's eyes slid shut as she forced herself to just remember this moment. To let it stay frozen in her memory. Although they were being playful, Rachel's question was sincere; she wanted to label what they had. Yes, Quinn was her wife. But they never would have gotten married if their situation had been different. Right now, she really just wanted to make sure they were on the same page: she wanted Quinn to be her girlfriend.

With careful movements, Rachel let her body glide against Quinn's until she was on top of her. She ducked her head, pecking up Quinn's shoulder to her neck and rested her chin there as Quinn ran her hands up and down Rachel's back until they settled on her wife's ass. "One straw? Quinn Fabray, I didn't know you were that kind of girl!" Rachel teased, her eyes bright.

Quinn squeezed Rachel's ass firmly and smirked. "I could be persuaded to do all _sorts_ of things."

Watching her wife (her _wife_! Rachel still couldn't get over that) smile so happily, made all the playfulness drain quickly from Rachel's expression. She just stared up at Quinn softly from her wife's shoulder. "I want to be with you forever." Rachel stated, squeezing Quinn tighter as she breathed in her scent: home.

Quinn's palms skated up Rachel's back before she just wrapped her arms around the tiny frame within her own. "Forever?" Quinn asked softly, all traces of joking aside except for the gentle smile forming.

"Yeah." Rachel sighed, blinking slowly up at Quinn. "How's that sound?"

Quinn's eyes raced over Rachel's face before finally finding warm brown eyes and nodded. "Forever sounds good." She smiled. "And, I'd _love _to be your girlfriend."

It wasn't a declaration of love, but, to both Rachel and Quinn, it sure felt like it.

X

When it was beyond time to get out of bed and get ready for Quinn's meeting, both girls went to their corners to prevent further touching. The sultry glances they gave another, however, did not let up.

"Rach?"

"Yes, wifey?" Rachel husked, turning around in a lavender bra with matching panties, hoping against hope that Quinn was about to seduce her.

Quinn's face was set in irritation, however. It did not stop Rachel from hoping. In fact, it made her want Quinn even more; irritation looked _damn fine_ on Quinn Fabray. "What the hell is _this_?" Quinn bit out, holding up the garment Rachel had packed for her.

Rachel hid her smile the best she could and kept her expression neutral as she stalked over to her wife, hips swaying softly. "Why, Quinn, dear, _that's _a pantsuit."

Quinn's eyes narrowed as she held the offending outfit up. "And _why _is there a _pantsuit _packed in my stuff, _Rachel_?"

Rachel's hands clasped behind her back as she blinked up at her wife innocently. "Did you not want to wear a pantsuit, Quinn?"

"You know damn well that I don't want to wear a pantsuit, Rachel!" Quinn whispered menacingly. "So _you _can wear the damn pantsuit to the meeting and I'll wear what _you _were going to wear! I can't believe you packed this!" Quinn grumbled as she turned away from her wife; if Quinn kept staring at the half naked Rachel, she was likely to lose the argument.

"Of course, Quinn," Rachel agreed calmly, heading over to her own suitcase to pull forth the very Jackie-O number she brought along to compliment Quinn's suit. She smiled brightly as she showed it to Quinn.

Quinn's eyebrow shot up as she saw the dress before sucking on her teeth. "You have _got_ to be kidding me." She mumbled to herself.

"Pantsuits not looking so bad, is it?" Rachel beamed.

"When we get back," Quinn said, turning back to her suitcase, "You're in a lot of trouble."

"So I shouldn't wear panties to the meeting, then?" Rachel smiled before shucking her lavender panties down her long legs as Quinn peeked over her shoulder at her. "Is a bra still acceptable?"

Quinn huffed loudly and turned away as Rachel went to remove her bra. She rolled her neck as she stared down at the charcoal-gray pantsuit with the thin black strips, and begged herself not to turn around at the sound of a bra hitting the soft carpet.

Not long after, Quinn, her pantsuit, Rachel completely commando in her Jackie-O inspired pink dress—no bra—and Jesse were in their limo on the way to Conduit Studies. Jesse also had a playlist for this excursion as well, and he and Rachel happily sang along as Quinn fumed. She wasn't exactly sure what Rachel's deal with her in a suit was, but if she thought for one _second _that Quinn was going to be _that _type of girl, she was sorely mistaken. Quinn rolled her eyes again.

As they pulled up to the lot and the playlist completed itself, Jesse couldn't help but give Quinn the once-over. He wanted to say something as soon as he saw her, but fear for his life stopped him. But now that they were at their destination, he felt safer. "My, my, my, Quinn; aren't we looking deliciously _dashing _today."

Quinn sighed loudly as her head collided with the window and Rachel's hand sought out her thigh with a squeeze. "I really hate you, Jesse." Quinn mumbled against the glass.

Jesse smirked. He saw Rachel's beam and knew that she was the one responsible for Quinn's debonair look. He turned to his friend. "They may act tough," Jesse said knowingly to Rachel, "but butches really are the biggest femmes." And then Quinn lunged.

It took a further five minutes for Rachel to keep Quinn from strangling him.

Once Jesse was off wondering around the building, Quinn and Rachel met Matt Rutherford and the other NYU boys in a small conference room. After hugs were exchanges and many congratulations to Rachel's nomination were given, Quinn took a seat at the head of the table while the boys filled in the other chairs, all waiting for Conduit's agents to arrive. Rachel, however, merely stood by Quinn's side and smiled whimsically at her wife.

Shiloh and Brad entered the room happily and shook hands with everyone before taking the seats on each side of Quinn. Contracts and discussions were immediately discussed, foregoing any chitchat. No one looked up as Rachel walked around the room with the glass water jug that was supplied, but merely thanked her, not realizing the newly Tony nominated actress was in the middle of playing the role of Quinn Fabray's wife. Rachel then passed out the assorted cheese and fruit platters before diligently returning back to Quinn side where she remained quiet, listening intently, as she twirled the ends of the wispy hair that had escaped Quinn's bun.

By two o'clock, everyone was getting antsy and irritable. It wasn't that negotiations weren't going well, it was just a lot to get through. When would each boy start his project? How much would he make? Who would assist? How much control would he get? What, exactly, _were_ they going to name Matt's screenplay; Quinn waved off his horrible suggestion and jotted down _Tentative Title _on her legal pad.

As Shiloh dragged her feet, Quinn rotated her stiff shoulders until Rachel's hands sought out the sore muscles. "I just don't understand why we have to wait until December." Quinn said in frustration as her arms dropped from the table to wrap her hand around Rachel's thigh behind her, encouraging her wife to continue. "Matt's script is excellent, and you said so yourself, Shiloh, it wouldn't take a lot of money or time to film; it should begin right away."

"And _I _don't understand the rush." Shiloh gritted out. "It has the Green Light; it will get filmed!"

"Because, even films that have the Green Light get shelved! I want it done this summer!" Quinn bit back.

"And I want to make it for a million dollars less!"

Sensing her wife was about to fly off the handle, Rachel squeezed Quinn's shoulders and stepped in. "Why don't we take a half hour break? I'll order everyone lunch and we'll meet back here to try this again?"

Shiloh sighed loudly as Brad stretched in his chair. The boys looked relieved that Rachel stepped in and all the fight drained from Quinn as she nodded. "That sounds like a good idea." Quinn said as she reached for the hand still on her shoulder.

"Excellent!" Rachel beamed, immediately pulling out a notepad and pen from her purse and wetting the tip of the ballpoint on her tongue. "What is everyone having?"

Shiloh and Brad left soon after Rachel took their lunch orders, and the boys headed out to blow off some steam. Soon, it was just Rachel and Quinn. "What are you doing?" Quinn laughed lightly once Rachel got off the phone with the restaurant that would be delivering their order.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, her eyebrows scrunching up. Quinn reached for her and brought her down on her lap.

"I'm fairly sure that there are at least a dozen interns out there that are required to do the very things you've been doing all afternoon."

Rachel's eyebrow rose slowly. "There's an intern out there whose job it is to massage your shoulders?" She asked, rising from Quinn's lap as though she would trounce said imaginary intern, trying and failing to hide her joking smirk.

Quinn laughed and pulled her wife back down on her lap. "You know what I mean. Is this why you're dressed like a First Lady? Playing the part?"

Rachel smiled shyly and rested her head on Quinn's shoulder. "Maybe."

"Well, you don't have to." She told Rachel sincerely, very puzzled over her wife's actions.

Rachel only pouted. "Yes I do."

Quinn smiled in amusement. "And why is that?" She asked softly as she cupped Rachel's neck.

Rachel ran her hand up the labels of Quinn's suit until she was holding them. "Because." She said quietly.

"Beeeecause…?"

"Because that's what you did for me." Rachel whispered before slowly looking up at a softly smiling Quinn.

"And you think you need to repay the favor?" Quinn asked after a moment.

Rachel sighed petulantly and snuggled deeper into Quinn. "No."

"No? Then why?"

Rachel grumbled for another moment, looking everywhere except at her wife until she stalled long enough. "Because I just want to. I like how it feels."

"Is that why I'm teaching you how to cook?" Rachel shrugged. "Is that why you're cleaning up after yourself and even _me_ now?" Another shrug. Quinn leaned in closer so she could whisper in Rachel's ear. "Is that why you're not wearing any panties now?"

Rachel giggled softly and shyly as Quinn's hand ran up her leg. "_Maaaybe_."

Quinn turned the chair until it was facing the room and guided Rachel up onto the table. Rachel stared down at her in mild deviance, as though she was about to be reprimanded, and Quinn blinked up at her tenderly. "Rach." She paused to search her wife's eyes and laid her hands on Rachel's long legs. "I don't need you to do those things. Just like _you _didn't need me to do those things. Even though I do likedoting on you."

"But it turns you on when I clean the apartment and cook in your apron." Rachel stated flirtatiously as her crossed legs parted slightly. Quinn's eyebrow cocked at the action, and she looked over her shoulder to make sure they were very much alone.

"Yes." Quinn nodded marginally; the thought of Rachel doing those things for her racing through her mind as she took in her wife's long legs. "I do."

"And I like how happy it makes you when you dote on me." Quinn nodded slightly as Rachel's legs parted further. "And you can deny it all you want, Fabray, but it's turning you on right now that you are sitting at the head of a table, running a business meeting, wearing a power suit, while your doting wife stands beside you." Rachel smirked as her legs opened even more.

Another slow nod from Quinn.

Rachel leaned forward until her lips brushed against Quinn's ear. "I'd be more than happy to play any role you want me to, make no mistake about it, Quinn. And I _want _to do these things for you. And not only because it's sexy watching you be the figurative head cheerleader again. But at the end of the day, what I like most, is when I'm Rachel and you're Quinn, and we are lying in our bed just being us. When I fall asleep in your arms and I wake up holding you. _That's_ what makes me happy. That you go to every one of my shows and I get to be your wife in these meetings. Our give and take. That we're equals. That we support one another. So let me support you right now. And later, you can remind me that I'm a Tony nominated actress and we'll have mad passionate sex while I scream your name."

Quinn moaned as she nuzzled into Rachel's neck, loving that she was able to slip her hands under the hem of Rachel's dress as her wife took her earlobe between her lips. "So, just so we're clear," Quinn husked before sucking on Rachel's skin. "You_ liked _head cheerleader Quinn?"

Rachel chuckled softly and stopped Quinn's hands from going any higher up her skirt. "_Mmmm_, let's just say," Rachel began as she pulled away from a whimpering Quinn. "I _liked _seeing that look in your eye. The same one you're wearing now." She smirked seductively at her wife.

Quinn nodded as her gaze locked on Rachel's. "I'm sure you saw it often."

"All the damn time."

"You know what it means now."

"I sure do."

"I'm closing this deal when lunch is over and taking you back to the hotel room."

"I'm pretty sure you have a meeting right after over _A Sweetness_ and Jesse's deal."

"Jesse can go screw himself and they're ready to give me anything we want so you'll be in _A Sweetness _the movie."

"Then I guess we'll be in the hotel room in no time at all!"

"You should keep the dress on."

"As long as you stay in the pantsuit you'll get whatever you want."

"Is this a bad time or should I just leave this food out here?" A nervous intern asked as he held an overflowing box of food in his arms.

Without even looking at him, too preoccupied with her wife, Quinn answered, "Just put it on the table and get the hell out."

Rachel smiled broadly, her tone playful, not removing her eyes from Quinn. "And thank you for all your hard work!"

X

It was far from easy saying goodbye to Rachel that next day. They spent most of the time in the limo, partition up, kissing and holding one another until Rachel's flight was to board.

The minute Rachel was gone, it felt like all the happiness left L.A. Her meeting at Conduit later that day was hell for Quinn. Across the board, _hell_. It was a rude awakening that she didn't know enough about the industry. That she didn't know a lot of things. But she didn't want to think about it.

Instead, she was in the hotel room waiting for Rachel to be back from her show. She had some time to kill, so she popped in the DVD Conduit gave her earlier of her and Rachel's wedding special. It was to be aired on television the next evening, and the studio was very excited to get the numbers; they were hoping it would give a boost to movie sales for _A Date a Month _and _Which of You, I Love_.

Quinn smiled as she shook her head, marveling over how lame the wedding special was. Shots of Lima—Conduit actually managed to make the town look somewhat presentable—establishing shots of McKinley, the auditorium, and the choir room. Interviews with Sue Sylvester that were probably _heavily _edited to make the woman look as though she was sane and generally liked Quinn and Rachel. Mr. Schue, some other staff. Stock footage of New Directions' performances. Pictures of the club together.

Seeing it all unroll before Quinn made her actually blush. Because, in a lot of those performances, in almost all of the pictures, she was either looking at Rachel or near her wife.

"Wow, you were blind for a while." Quinn's inner voice nodded emphatically back.

Quinn began watching the special from between her fingers. It was embarrassing, to say the least. Hearing a melodious deep voice summarize her and Rachel's history, making it sound like an epic love story in the making. Thankfully, all the really awful stuff wasn't included: no pregnancy, no mention of Quinn humiliating Rachel, really, and no love triangles were brought up.

Every time her image was on film, however, Quinn would cringe; she hated that she was in the spotlight like that. She was mostly in the background, however. Standing behind Rachel, holding her hand or guiding her wife somewhere, sometimes holding her purse while Rachel signed something.

The special quickly zipped through their life in New York. Shots of Julliard and NYU. Quinn walking dogs. The theatres where _A Sweetness _debuted and _Wink and a Nod_ still ran.

The interviews of their New York friends and fellow students were sweet. Everyone just seemed really eager to be on film and gushed about her and Rachel. It wasn't half bad, actually. Rachel interview, however, had Quinn watching through her fingers again.

Quinn wasn't exactly sure _how _she managed to forget that her wife had been intoxicated the day of her interview. That time in Quinn's life seemed like forever ago. It was before they became intimate, before the wedding and honeymoon, before everything was out in the open.

Before Rachel's lap dance.

It all suddenly came rushing back to Quinn. Sitting at the Bridal shop, texting a drunk Rachel as she awaited her interview. Flirting with one another. Rachel sad that Quinn wasn't doing the interview with her. Quinn remembered Rachel saying something to the affect that Quinn would regret not doing the interview.

Yes. Quinn now regrets it.

"_So, Ms. Berry, how did this love story all begin?_" The interviewer asked eagerly, leaning on the edge of her seat as she smiled at Rachel.

Rachel didn't appear intoxicated on film. Just really happy. But Quinn knew the difference. She cringed, watching through her fingers and out of one eye as a look of mischief swam over Rachel's face.

"_Thank you so much for asking, Paula_." Rachel said with a beam. _"It didn't officially start until senior year of high school. But long before that, Quinn made it quite plain that she had feelings for me_." Rachel said with a smirk.

"Oh, God!" Quinn groaned loudly into her hands. "This can't be good."

The plan she and Rachel had when it came to dealing with the press was that they'd lie and say it happened their senior year quite naturally. They were friends, and one day while practicing for glee club, they both realized it was _more _than friendship. Rachel was flying from the seat of her pants, and that never boded well for Quinn.

"_So, Quinn liked you for quite some time?" _The interviewer asked hungrily, tipping, if possible, even further forward. Rachel nodded exaggeratedly.

"_Oh, yes! It started small: smiles in the hallways between classes, compliments on my singing or my outfit choices; Quinn loved my fashion sense back then_!"

"Seriously, Rachel?" Quinn groaned at the TV.

"_I took them all in stride, assuming Quinn was just desperate to be my friend_."

"She's got to be shitting me." Quinn sucked on her teeth.

"_But that's not why Quinn did it?" _The interviewer smiled.

Rachel shook her head. _"It became quite clear the further we got into sophomore year. She started passing me notes. _Love notes, _and leave them in my locker_. _She would even draw pictures of me!" _

"Rachel!"

"_That's so romantic!" _Paula squealed, getting Rachel to fake bashfulness.

"_At first I was so confused! We weren't the best friends we later became, and I was clueless that she had an ulterior motive. To me, they were just friendly gestures, not Quinn's attempt at courting!"_

"_And when did it become clear?" _

Rachel smiled mysteriously as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She suddenly looked right at the camera, almost as though she was looking right at Quinn. Quinn gulped. _"At the end of sophomore year, right before we performed at our first Sectionals. A fight had just broken out in the middle of glee club, tempers running high because of the pressure, I suppose. _

"_Anyway, Quinn ran out of the room and I chased after her. I thought she was upset because her ex boyfriends were fighting over me. But really, it was because she felt her chance with me slipping between her fingers." _

"You can_not_-I can't _believe you-_you had just freaking told Finn that he wasn't the father of my unborn baby and he confronted Puck and me-I'm going to _kill _you Rachel Berry! I _should have _hityou that day!"

"_What did she say to you?" _

Rachel grinned cheekily again at the camera. _"She was crying. I didn't know what to say or do! I sat beside her, a little nervous, almost as though I could sense that something _huge _was about to take place. I asked her if she hated me because her exes were in the middle of fisticuffs for my attention. And that's when she told me that she, in fact, didn't hate me, and was actually in love with me!" _The interviewer gasped dramatically as Rachel nodded seriously.

Quinn was just shaking her head. It's all she could do. She could just imagine Rachel laughing uproariously over her huge lie; knowing it would make Quinn squirm. Quinn rolled her eyes and fleetingly wondered if Puck or—God willing, not—Finn would watch the special. She could pretty much count on Puck's viewer ship, but knowing Puck, he would probably laugh his ass off over Rachel rewriting history.

"_What did you say back?" _

"_I was _stunned_!" _Rachel told Paula. _"I had no idea! But I couldn't think about it then; we had a competition to win! So I just told her I'd consider it." _

"_But you said you two didn't get together until your senior year! What took so long?" _Paula asked, getting Rachel to give a sorrowful frown and grow quiet.

"_It took me a really long time to realize that my feelings for Quinn ran so deep. I think, looking back, I just wasn't ready. Somehow, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, and I was too young then to deal with the magnitude of my feelings." _

When Rachel looked deeply into the camera, Quinn knew she wasn't lying. And she wasn't referring to high school either. No, Quinn would bet her life on the fact that Rachel was speaking in the present tense. She was explaining to Quinn that, although she loved her, she wasn't ready to say the words out loud and deal with the consequences of being so in love. With love came the potential for heartache, more pain. Something Quinn knew Rachel wasn't sure she could stand again.

Things, of course, were better for Rachel now. She had friends, old and new. She had a very successful and fledgling career. She had Quinn. And although there were other things that still made Rachel's heart ache, like her lack of relationship with Shelby, Rachel's past wounds were getting better every day.

Quinn's attention went back to the television. _"We lost touch over the summer before junior year, and in that time I did a bit of dating. Junior year began and so did a real friendship with Quinn. We both were in relationships and just tried getting to know one another; as friends. _

"_But the love notes didn't stop." _Rachel grinned secretively and Quinn made a mental note to give Sam Evans a call before he came to New York; she was almost positive she would have to make this up to him. _"And I found myself thinking of her constantly! I was _always _seeking her out. Always vying for her attention. Towards the end of junior year, I found myself unable to _not _flirt with her." _Rachel giggled girlishly. _"It was our own little secret, the fact that she felt so strongly. I think she could also tell that I felt the same. She even inspired me to write a competition-winning song!" _

"_But still _nothing _happened between you two?" _The interviewer asked, aghast.

Rachel shook her head, still with that secret smile. _"We both knew we wanted more. We just slowly developed the foundation of friendship, getting to know one another. By senior year, however, everything changed! Our 'friendship' was more like, well, if you'll pardon the expression, foreplay!" _

"I can't believe this!" Quinn groaned, once again her head in her hands. She couldn't believe Rachel went from sweet and honest back to lying to humiliate Quinn in no seconds flat. She couldn't help but chuckle, however, because it was kind of amusing watching Rachel rewrite the past. And, Quinn had to admit, in retrospect, it kind of did seem like flirting what she and Rachel used to do. Yeah: foreplay.

"_This sounds salacious!" The interviewer squealed as she rubbed her hands together. _

"_Oh, it was! I told Quinn how attractive she was every chance I got. Looked for ways to be near her and she'd do the same. Well…it didn't take long into senior year for things to escalate. Soon, we were sneaking around, kissing in Janitors' closets, meeting up for rendezvous that lasted for hours, singing songs to one another in glee club that were clandestinely dedicated to one another—it was a lovely time." _Rachel said whimsically.

Quinn ducked her head as she smiled. How she _wished _Rachel's tale was true. Senior year, high school in general, would have been so much better. As it was, both girls were just fighting to keep their heads above water. They had been friendless, for the most part. Puck was the only person that really talked to Quinn, and Finn was the only one who would talk to Rachel.

Suddenly, Quinn was laughing at full volume: how she _wished _she could be there while Finn Hudson watched the special! She wondered, as she stared at Rachel on the TV screen, if he would believe it. Probably he would, considering it was Finn. That would teach him for cheating on Rachel, making him think that the whole time he and Rachel were together, Rachel was with Quinn behind his back. It gave Quinn quite a bit of satisfaction.

"_And, by the end of senior year, we were desperately in love and planning to move to New York together. As soon as we arrived, Quinn proposed, and the rest is history!" _

The rest of the special was the wedding preparation and the actual ceremony and reception. Some of their friends and glee club members, as well as B-list and below celebrities, gave their congratulations. The special wrapped with the future of Rachel's stardom—the movies that were currently out in theatres and her musical—and some pictures of the happy brides.

All in all, Quinn loved the wedding special, she just _really_ didn't want it to air.

She was brought out of her musings when her phone rang. "I'm going to kill you."

Rachel blanched on the other line, double checking she called Quinn, and looked around her dressing room in surprise. She had been desperate to hear Quinn's voice all day. She felt like she had just put her show on fast-forward, hurrying to get to the end so she could hear her wife's voice. Sleep evaded her the previous night once she was off the phone with Quinn, tossing and turning missing her wife. Wondering what Quinn was doing. If she missed her. If she could deal with the upcoming week without Quinn while she was in Lima.

So, to hear her wife's gruff tone after going without talking all day, threw Rachel for a loop. "Did you not like the naked pictures, or should I have made a video?" Rachel asked, her head cocked thoughtfully.

Now Quinn was the one who was surprised. "Naked pictures? Where?" She practically screamed, hopping off the bed to search around the hotel room.

Rachel leaned against her vanity and smirked. "Under your pillow. And why, exactly, are you going to kill me?"

Quinn ripped her pillow away and stared down the flip-book-like stack of photos she found. "I just saw your wedding special interview. _When _did you take _these_?"

Rachel thought for a moment before slapped her hand against her mouth as the hazy memory of her interview flashed through her mind. "Oh, God!"

"Oh God is right." Quinn mumbled thickly as she flipped through the pictures. It really _was _like a flip book. A naughty flip book. It began with Rachel smirking at the camera and ending with her wife very naked on their apartment couch.

"I _completely _forgot about the interview! Oh my, God! I have to go call Sam. And Puck. And…I'm pretty sure everyone!"

"We'll do that later." Quinn said without interest, too busy looking through the pictures of Rachel. "Where are you right now?"

Rachel was too caught up in trying to remember the interview to catch Quinn's tone. "My dressing room. Jesus, _Quinn_, I feel so bad! Are you okay? Are you really mad at me?"

"You're dressing room? Alone?"

Again, Rachel blanched, finally catching on. "_Yes_." She responded cautiously.

"And what are you wearing?" Quinn smirked, getting comfortably on the bed as she held her phone at her ear so she could slowly flip through the pictures.

"Seriously? Right now?" Rachel laughed, still feeling sick with guilt over the drunken interview but already missing Quinn.

"The special won't air until tomorrow, we're fine. We'll call everyone then. Now. What. Are you. Wearing?"

Rachel ducked her head slyly as she bit her lip. "Just a robe."

"Which one; the black or the sheer?"

"The sheer of course." Rachel smirked, walking over to her cream couch to get comfortable, the sheer robe parting slightly to expose her breasts.

X

Quinn checked her phone for the time and sighed heavily as she stood. Kurt's flight should be arriving any minute. It had been delayed, which put them behind schedule. She had hopped to be at the theatre already, in Rachel's dressing room, kissing her wife and fucking her properly against her vanity. Naturally, once again, she had been cock-blocked. This time by American Air/Kurt.

Slinging her carry-on over her shoulder and dragging her suitcase behind her, Quinn made her way towards Kurt's gate and check her phone again when she felt it vibrate. _Where are you?_

Quinn quickly texted Rachel back informing her wife that Kurt's flight had yet to arrive. She received a series of sad emoticons back before getting a picture of Rachel atop her vanity pouting.

"Screw you American Air." Quinn grumbled as she heaved her bag more securely over her shoulder.

Kurt would only be in town until the next morning. He had no idea why his presence was requested, but happily accepted the free plane ticket with the promise of seeing Rachel's show, visiting with his old friends, and seeing the city he so longed for.

What the boy didn't know was that Quinn was busy at work trying to find ways to employ her old classmates. Kurt had been tricky for Quinn. Not because he wasn't talented, but because he was so versatile. She could easily see him doing Broadway. Or something in fashion. Acting in film or television. Recording melodic Christmas albums. Whatever; like Rachel, he could do it all. Okay, he wasn't as versatile as Rachel. In Quinn's mind, no one was. He could do a lot, though.

She had consulted with Charlene about it. Her friend and mentor had been very curious to meet the boy properly. Quinn spared no detail in telling Charlene all about Kurt. Everything from his personality to what he wore to his struggles and tenacity in high school and what he was currently doing with his life.

Charlene vaguely remembered him from the wedding. She agreed with Quinn that his talents for makeup were exquisite—based off of how Quinn and Rachel had looked for their wedding. He was, perhaps, a tad young, but Charlene had a friend who was looking for someone with Kurt's abilities and personality for an upcoming project. The plan was to get Kurt into town, introduce him to Charlene and her friend Vivian, and let them decide what they thought without alerting Kurt to their ulterior motive. That way, if they thought he wasn't right for the part he wouldn't be let down and Quinn would go back to the drawling board where he was concerned.

"Quinn Fabray, as I live and breathe."

"I saw you like a week ago, Kurt." Quinn said back with a tired smile. The boy dropped his arms to his side and huffed.

"More like _three_! Now come here and give me a hug, you married lady!" Quinn rolled her eyes but quickly gave in.

"How was your flight?" She asked as they headed towards the exit where their car was waiting for them.

"Horrid. The man beside me kept complaining about my spritzing."

"I don't know what that means." Quinn replied, handing over her bags to the driver before getting into the backseat of the Town Car she had waiting for them.

Kurt looked scandalized as he slid in the seat beside her. "You _must_ moisturize while flying, Quinn! The air is so-"

Quinn held up her hand to silence him as she nuzzled into the seat, tired, sore, and not in the mood. "I've heard it all from Rachel. How've you been?"

He only looked slightly affronted by being cut-off before arranging himself more comfortably in the plush seats. "Bored. I've been bored. Let's not talk about my life in Lima. Let's talk about New York! I want to know all New York things; it's been far too long since I've been here, and I can't recall ever a time when a Town car was waiting for me. So tell me _everything_!"

Quinn gave a tired chuckle. "New York is New York." She summarized quickly. "It's loud, expensive, crowded, and-"

"_Fantastic_." Kurt said with a wistful sigh as they drove through the jam-packed streets.

Quinn smiled. "Yeah. That too."

"Now tell me about L.A. No, wait! Rachel first, then L.A.! No!" Kurt exclaimed as he shook his head. "L.A. first."

They only arrived at the theatre with a little under a half hour until curtain. Quinn was _very _displeased. Rachel had a pre-performance routine, and with so little time, it wouldn't include orgasms.

"This is so exciting!" Kurt shrieked quietly as they were led backstage. The house was packed. Unsurprising. Sold out and then some. With all the Tony nominations and praise they show was receiving it only made sense.

Quinn knocked three times, but it was unnecessary; Rachel was rushing to open it after the first knock. Quinn only saw a flash of brown hair before Rachel's arms were around her and her mouth firmly planted on Quinn's.

"I missed you so much." Rachel got out before kissing Quinn again, delving her tongue deep into her wife's mouth. "We have to hurry." She breathed out, raking her hand through Quinn's hair as the other made to undo Quinn's pants.

As Rachel tried to kick the door closed, Kurt shrieked loudly, effectively making Rachel yank away from Quinn and look over wife's shoulder. "I completely forgot." She whispered miserably while Quinn quickly fastened her pants, unsure as to how Rachel managed to distract her so thoroughly to get them opened to begin with. "Kurt!" Rachel cheered with only a smidgen of disappointment. "How are you?" She asked as she brought him in for a hug.

"Feeling rather unwanted, as a matter of fact, but I'll let that go because my friend is a Tony nominated actress and I'm backstage an actual Broadway show!" He cheered, jumping up and down with Rachel still in his arms. He quickly pulled away from her to inspect the dressing room, babbling excitedly.

Rachel mood suddenly improved: he had said the magic words. Soon, she too was babbling excitedly, shrieking along with Kurt as she showed him around the dressing room, telling him all about the show, squealing about the upcoming awards.

"Well we _must _go searching for proper gown designers for the big event while I'm here; you can't take this away from me, Rachel. I _must _be there with you!"

Rachel beamed. "Well actually, Quinn picks out my dresses, but I'm sure she wouldn't have a problem having your advice!"

Kurt appraised both women for a moment. "While I'm glad you are finally taking fashion advice, even if it's from an amateur, I feel for your first major award show you'll need the big guns. No offense, Quinn."

"Offense taken." Quinn mumbled to herself as she fell back onto Rachel's couch wearily.

They didn't stay long, however. Rachel kicked them out in favor of her pre-performance rituals. "After dinner with Charlene, we'll have plenty of time alone." Quinn promised after another long kiss goodbye to her wife at the door, Kurt already in the hallway.

Rachel pouted. "Do we _have _to go to dinner?"

"If Kurt's plane arrived on time I'd say no. But it was late, therefore he missed his meeting. A fast dinner and then plenty of alone time. I promise." Rachel nodded before connecting their lips again. A slow, sensual kiss that lasted much longer than it should have. "Okay, superstar; you need to prepare." Quinn whispered as she slowly pulled away.

Rachel nodded firmly. "Yes I do."

"Break a leg." Quinn smirked as she turned to go. Rachel slapped her on the ass and gave her wife a smirk of her own, getting Quinn to raise her eyebrow playfully.

As she and Kurt made their way to their seats, Kurt cleared his throat. "Santana, Brittany, and Tina weren't kidding; I am _very _pleased I got a hotel room."

"_Oh_, you have no idea." Quinn mumbled, very much so looking forward to their alone time.

A few hours later, Quinn, Rachel, Kurt, Charlene and her friend Vivian were all seated around an elegantly set table at New York's newest hot-spot, _Finir. _They were laughing pleasantly over Kurt's antidote about the women he has encountered selling Avon door to door. Charlene and Vivian laughed uproariously as he delved into details—exaggerations or not—until both women had tears in their eyes. Quinn and Rachel watched on with soft smiles, holding one another close as they listened.

"I missed you." Rachel whispered for Quinn's ears only, nuzzling herself into Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn looked down at her wife and rested her forehead against Rachel's. "And I missed you."

Rachel sighed sadly and went back to nuzzling. "Do you really have to leave again?"

Quinn's eyes slipped closed, blocking out the noisy restaurant and her still-laughing dinner guests. "I'll be back before you know it."

"I don't even get a full twenty-four hours with you, though."

"I know." Quinn breathed out over the lump in her throat. She was tired. So very tired. But it wasn't the lack of sleep that made her feel that way. It was the news Conduit Studios gave her.

They were very impressed with Quinn. Between her instincts and confidence, know-how and pit bull-like instincts, she was an ideal person to bring into their company. Throw in the fact that she was stunning, and Conduit was foaming at the mouth to have her aboard.

In L.A.

_Quinn was flattered but immediately turned them down. "I belong in New York." _With Rachel_, she told them. The room-full of men and women grew quiet at Quinn's pronouncement at the end of the meeting, and they left the room in awkward silence. _

_Once alone, Shiloh sat down with Quinn. "Quinn-"_

"_Save it, Shiloh, there's nothing you can say to me that will change my mind. I'm more than happy to continue working with the studio, but from New York, not L.A." _

_Shiloh flipped the lapels of her suit as she cleared her throat, eyes on her lap. "I don't think you understand, Quinn." Shiloh said quietly. "It doesn't really work that way." She looked up at Quinn and considered her young age. Shiloh had been in the business for over twenty years. She had worked her ass off to get where she was. "We're a major studio, Quinn, and we don't exactly have contractors. You are a rare case. You are…the _only_ exception to that rule. The only reason the studio as been so forgiving with you is because you had something we wanted. Several _someones_, actually. And now we have them." _

_Quinn kept her expression neutral as she observed the woman. She considered Matt Rutherford and all his friends. Jesse. Rachel. "You don't have them. I'm still their agent, manager, publicist-"_

_Shiloh held up her hand to interrupt Quinn. "And for how much longer?" She asked without threat. _

_Quinn was confused. "What do you mean?" _

"_How much longer before Conduit starts black-listing you and your clients. So far, so good; they are producing well and their earnings are coming in. But when they hit a dry spell, and they will because it _always_ happens, how much longer until Conduit ceases to care and you are at square one." Quinn remained quiet, puzzling that over. _

"_In the industry, it's all about who you know. When Conduit no longer cares, who will be your connections? Where will you get funding? Are you going to let your clients flail around as you search for someone to take a chance on them? Hmm? With no contract, they are on their own; you and Rachel are on your own." _

_Quinn swelled with confidence. "We got here because of talent, we'll do it again." _

"_But for how long?" Shiloh repeated, firmer this time and a tad frustrated. "You have no client roster at your disposal. You don't have a list of willing and able buyers to take on your clients. You don't have the first clue how the industry works, Quinn! You're a child who got very lucky her first go-around and I think you are being incredibly naïve believing that you can provide for them! Think about your friends, your wife! What's going to happen after their latest projects wrap and you no longer have an ally to get them work?" _

_Quinn had no idea, but she wasn't about to admit to that. "Shiloh, I understand what you're doing: you're looking out for me, but more importantly, you're looking out for your company. I get it, okay? You stayed to give me the hard sell because we have a rapport; it's charming. But I'm learning. I am. I'm making contacts every day and I'm not moving out here to work for Conduit in the mail room or serving coffee while Rachel is in New York. I'm not. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her and she wants Broadway. New York. That's what she wants. And Conduit Studios doesn't know the first thing about Broadway. _

"_If my friends want to sign on with you, I will not begrudge them. Matt, Chris, all the others, they are very talented and deserve what they're doing out here. But I don't belong here. And if that means that I will never make it in L.A., so be it. I will remain working in New York and whatever happens, happens." _

_Shiloh sighed in frustration, shaking her head. "We wouldn't ask you to come out here only to start on the ground floor! You'd be a junior agent, learning the ropes! Screw the studio, Quinn. You're talented. New York is too small for you! Don't you see that? What? Are you going to get clients there and shuttle them back and forth to different Broadway shows, reprisals, off-Broadway failures that don't even make it a week?" _

_Quinn's jaw clenched, and she slowly rose to her feet. "So you're playing bad cop now?" Quinn asked darkly, pissed at the dig Shiloh made about A Sweetness. Shiloh only shook her head in irritation. "Well if you recall, Ms. Shiloh, yesterday I signed a movie deal starring my wife over that little off-Broadway failure. And before you name-drop and try and tell me that I was lucky because the producer of that little musical threw bucket-loads to make it happen, let me just set you straight when I say that it was _my_ doing that is getting this movie made! _

"_If you want to play hard-ball with me, that's fine. If Conduit wants to black-list me and steal my clients, I'll even understand because it's business. But don't think for a second that luck had anything to do with everything that has happened with my friends and my wife." _

_Quinn quickly gathered her things and turned to leave. "Quinn, wait!" Shiloh breathed out as she rolled her eyes. "I just don't think you understand what you're doing. Not only could you be costing yourself millions upon millions of dollars down the line, but you'll be hurting your clients and reputation; no one will want to work with you after Conduit has had its say." _

_Quinn gave a mirthless chuckle as she shook her head by the exit. "Ms. Shiloh, I'm sure you are very good at your job; hell, you're probably even great. But your first mistake was thinking that you could intimidate me. You think it's hard dealing with a huge film studio screwing with your reputation?" Quinn chuckled darkly again. "Try dealing with Sue Sylvester for four years; _that's hard_!" _

She promptly made an exit that would have Rachel swelling with pride. But now, back in New York, it was all weighing heavy on Quinn. She really wouldn't begrudge Matt and the others for signing with Conduit. In fact, she was probably going to convince them—and soon—that they needed to distance themselves from her. She wasn't worried about Rachel and Jesse. Although they were both rather enthusiastic about their upcoming feature films, Broadway was where they both wanted to remain. And in the in-between, they would want to work in music, not film and television.

But that was for only now. What happens in five, ten years when Rachel will be looking to complete her EGOT. She had the Tony nomination. There was buzz that she would be nominated for an Oscar for her role in _Which of You, I Love_. And Rachel would be hell-bent on having an album completed soon to get that Grammy. What would happen when Rachel wants to appear in a dramatic mini series in an effort to gain an Emmy? Will Conduit's wrath stretch after all that time? Did they really have the power?

Quinn had no idea. And then there was the idea of getting new clients. What about them? Would she have to tell everyone she signs that there was a good chance that she couldn't get them into different mediums because she gave Conduit the finger repeatedly?

She wasn't even completely sure _what _she wanted to do in the future. But the idea that she now had a glass ceiling over her head was making Quinn feel anxious. She didn't really like L.A. She wasn't too thrilled with the movie industry, either. Was she really ready, though, to say goodbye to the potential for all that _now_?

"You have your thinking face on." Rachel whispered up to her, garnering Quinn's attention out of her musings.

Quinn blew out a long breath and observed what was going on across the table: Charlene and Vivian looked completely charmed by Kurt. She glanced back down at Rachel, who was now looking concerned. She wanted to smile at her wife, alleviate that pout, but she knew she couldn't do that; it wouldn't be fair to carry the burden on her own. However, she was only in town for a few short hours. That conversation could wait. "We have a lot to talk about eventually, that's all."

Rachel only frowned harder, anxiety quickly reaching the surface. She felt her heart beat escalate as she looked up at her thoughtful wife. "Is everything-"

Quinn shook her head, immediately seeing the worry in Rachel's eyes that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with their marriage. "Not about us." She whispered so as not to attract the rest of her dinner party's attention. "Conduit." She finished miserably.

Rachel brow furrowed. "So I suppose we won't be having a sleepless night due to all they sex I had planned, huh?"

Quinn laughed openly and connected her head with Rachel's affectionately. "We still will be doing that." Quinn quickly whispered in Rachel's ear, getting her wife to beam, before she turned to Vivian to start a conversation. "More champagne?"

Kurt was on a high once dinner was over and they went back to Quinn and Rachel's apartment. He would only be staying briefly, everyone was a little sleepy, but he was adamant that he wanted to see where they lived.

"My goodness, Mrs. Fabray, this place is just lovely." He said as he twirled in place, looking around the lush apartment with slightly wide eyes and an approving smile.

"That's because Quinn's taste is classic and elegant, which explains why she married me." Rachel smiled as she fluttered her eyelashes up at Quinn.

Quinn chuckled and slowly shook her head at Rachel, a soft smile and loving look eclipsing the anxiety she still felt towards her future. "Aren't you two just darling?" Kurt sighed as she fell back onto the couch. "I can't wait to watch your wedding special, snuggled up in bed with a box of tissues at my side. I DVRed it." He finished with a playful smile.

Sighing loudly and rolling her eyes—not wanting to talk about the wedding special—Quinn moved to the bedroom to get changed and unpack her things from her trip. She was not looking forward to the next day when she would have to leave again, but being home, even briefly, made it worth it.

"So tell me, Mrs. Tony Nominated Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical, is it all it's cracked up to be?"

Rachel pulled her gaze away from the now closed bedroom door and primly took a seat on the chair beside Kurt. Her new nickname made her smile brightly, and she turned to him with a contented expression. "_Yes_." She answered simply with a wistful sigh. Sure, she was concerned for Quinn and the bad news she received in L.A., but that could wait.

As Kurt observed her intently, Rachel allowed herself to just dwell on all the good things in her life. She felt like she had it all. Everything she wanted, desired, wished upon, and worked towards was in her gasp. She had a full life in every aspect.

"What was that look?" Kurt asked playfully, sensing that Rachel needed to be pulled from her inner thoughts. He had watched the happiness play across Rachel's features until his friend swallowed heavily and momentarily looked stricken.

Rachel slowly looked over at him, her shoulders tense, before she laughed him off. "It's nothing; I'm fine. Life is wonderful!"

"Uh huh." Kurt mumbled as he extended his arms across the back of the couch. "So what's wrong? Why the sudden look as though you're auditioning for a desperate housewife number three in a Lifetime Movie?"

Rachel dropped her gaze as she shook her head wordlessly. She wasn't about to complain when her life was so great. Especially to her friend that shared most of the same dreams as she herself did, yet, was so much farther from reaching his own.

"Rachel." Kurt said softly, getting her to look over at him. He was smiling sympathetically and it made the fear rush to the surface. "I wasn't a great friend to you in high school-"

"Kurt, that was a long time ago-"

He cut her off with a raise of his hand and another smile. "I should have been there for you despite the fact that you stayed with Finn. I saw how bad it was and instead of being a confidant, we just lost touch. If I can be there for you now, I would like to be."

Rachel shook her head again. "My problems are _so _small and completely of my own making-"

Kurt cut her off again, this time with a shrug and a playful roll of his eyes. "We're performers, sweetheart; our problems will always be big to us. Now spill."

Sensing that Kurt wouldn't relent, Rachel sighed as her shoulders dropped. She quickly looked over to the bedroom door and scooted to the edge of her seat to whisper. "I'm just scared sometimes, is all. I have…" Rachel heaved a great sigh as her eyes watered. "I have _so much _to lose. Sometimes…I just-I just worry the other shoe will drop or I'll wake up back at McKinley, a loser, heartbroken, with Shelby rejecting me or Finn humiliating me, and completely friendless.

"Everything feels like a _dream_, Kurt. Movies, and Tony nominations, and _Quinn_! My life couldn't _be _more perfect. I have nowhere to go but down! And, frankly, it's _terrifying _sometimes to have so much to lose."

Kurt smiled softly as he crossed one leg over the other. "So your life really _is _as perfect as it seems."

"_Yes_." Rachel sighed as she rubbed at her forehead. "And it's simultaneously amazing as it is daunting."

"So, what you're _really _saying is that you 'haven't suffered enough'?" Kurt quoted.

Rachel gave him a wry smile and painful chuckle. "Yes. I truly understand how Fanny Brice felt."

"Rach," Kurt said as he moved to take her hands in his. "Maybe that's _why _you went through all the pain then. Maybe this is some cosmic retribution to make up for the fact that high school and everything before was so difficult. _This _is what you've been working towards; you didn't exactly get an easy ride in life."

"But can I do it, Kurt? Can I give myself over to the happiness so completely? Let down my guard and just be _happy_? Sometimes I can't _help_ but be happy! And then I remember that there could be a speed bump around the corner that uproots everything!"

"If you're looking for a perfect world, Rach, it's not going to happen. There will always be obstacles and, perhaps, even heartache. But that doesn't mean you should pull away."

Rachel sighed as she leaned back in her chair. She really did have so much to lose. She remembered that feeling well. In high school, in glee, when she had a few friends, a boyfriend, a future before her. And that crushing feeling when each one of those things was pulled out from under her.

She couldn't help but glance over to her bedroom door where Quinn was hidden. Her love. She so desperately loved Quinn. Each time they kissed, made love, went grocery shopping, laughed, held hands, bickered—it was becoming increasingly more difficult not to look into those hazel eyes and sigh her love to Quinn.

And she wanted to. Oh, God, did she want to say those words. Yearned to. Almost as much as she wanted to hear the words whispered back. But telling Quinn how she felt would make it all real again. Like how she said those words before the truth came out. And, like all the other times when Rachel Berry got what she wanted, it was yanked away suddenly and cruelly, leaving her broken and lost.

Perhaps it was because of the Tony nomination—the pinnacle of achievement in Rachel's mind—making everything seem so real and heightened. Maybe it was because she spent a night away from Quinn—the distance making her realize how fragile their relationship could become if they spent time away from one another without the pronouncement of love, especially now that they were intimate with one another. Or possibly it was Kurt's presence—a reminder of her painful past. But lately Rachel was feeling as though she was in the middle of an intersection and she would have to choose which way to go, all while avoiding traffic.

Things were changing yet again. McKinley classmates were popping more frequently in and out of their life. Her career was taking off. Quinn was traveling now for business. Rachel felt like she was going to have to deal with all those issues she had either pushed aside or thought she conquered. Hard decisions would have to be made. But was she ready to make them?

Both Rachel and Kurt were jerked out of their moment when Quinn opened the bedroom door, smiling widely, her eyes on Kurt. "I have good news." She sang out, shaking her phone in front of her to indicate she had just gotten off the phone.

Rachel immediately smiled, the tension she was feeling momentarily faded as she sat up in her chair and turned to her friend. If Quinn got good news, it could only mean one thing.

"Good news?" Kurt asked, looking from Quinn to Rachel in confusion.

"I just got off the phone with Charlene." Quinn explained, taking a seat in Rachel's lap and wrapping her arm around her wife's neck. Now was not the time to bring it up, but Quinn saw Rachel's expression as she left the bedroom and how her wife tried to cover it up. She would just have to settle for being close to her and ask later why her wife looked so pensive.

Kurt looked nonplussed, and Quinn and Rachel shared smiles.

"I haven't been completely honest with you, Kurt." Quinn began, trying to hide her smirk. "Rachel and I didn't ask you here solely to enjoy your company-"

"However pleasant it is." Rachel quickly added and Quinn nodded.

"-Or even for you to see Rachel's show." Quinn finished. Kurt was still confused. "Charlene is a very good friend of mine and we've been working with one another lately on a new project idea Vivian has in the works. She wants a host for a daytime talk show that ranges everywhere from fashion and advice to fabulousness and trendy.

"Between the three of us, we thought it would be fun to make it more of a city-type show, exploring New York and everything it has to offer, with a host who could keep it interesting and entertaining while informative and modern." Both girls grinned eagerly at Kurt, but he was still at a loss. His face was very pale and his jaw slacked, so Quinn continued. "I didn't want to mention anything because Vivian was looking for a more experienced and older host, but after meeting you she decided to tweak the concept slightly. So…if you choose to accept, you would be the new host of New to New York-"

"That's a tentative title if I ever heard one." Rachel mumbled.

"-That would hopefully premiere this fall. It would include you trying out new restaurants, bars, and shows; interviewing celebrities; offering on-street and/or in-studio advice to people you meet; recapping amusing current events; and showcasing what New York has to offer from the prospective of a young, single gay man who has a lot to say."

Rachel squealed and clapped her hands enthusiastically, making Quinn bounce on her lap as she laughed. Kurt was still stunned.

"I-I…"

"Kurt!" Rachel exclaimed, reaching out to grab his hand and shake it. "This is _perfect _for you! You'll have your hand in everything New York! And probably other places, too!" She squealed again.

"I have to sit down." He finally mumbled.

"You _are _sitting down, Kurt." Quinn told him calmly with a smile.

"I should sit down again, then. Wha-What? How did this-I-I have to sit down."

"I suggest you give Avonyour two weeks notice, Kurt, cause we're going to need you back here in a month to start going over everything." Quinn smiled.

Kurt's ashen face only paled further as his jaw dropped open a tad more. "I should sit down." In response, Quinn and Rachel could only laugh at his behavior.

This is why Quinn was helping her McKinley friends: seeing their blown-away expressions when they realized all their dreams were coming true. No, Kurt and Quinn had never been close. But neither had Rachel and Quinn. Yet, here Quinn was, in a city she loved, doing what she loved, with the woman she loved. She was paying it forward. Because, even on bad days, her life was perfect.

X

Quinn and Rachel leaned against one another for support as a babbling Mercedes bounced excitedly beside them in the back of the cab. If Mercedes picked up on their exhaustion, she didn't care; far too eager to get into the studio. They had just enough time to dump Mercedes' things off at the hotel before taking another cab to the small space a few blocks down from Times Square.

After Kurt finally grasped that his life was about to change drastically, he wanted to go out on the town to celebrate. Quinn and Rachel didn't have the heart to tell the boy that they'd rather stay in and screw all night. And after all, they were thrilled for him.

They went to the nearest gay bar where Kurt promptly bought a round to cheers to. Thanking them both. Gushing about the amazing opportunity. Freak out about the amazing break. Waxing poetic about McKinley and glee club. And laugh manically over the poor souls still suck in Lima. And that was all before their first shot.

As the night wore on, there were many more shots and many more speeches. Speeches about how amazing and successful Rachel and Quinn were. Speeches about New York. About Gay bars. About Will Schuester. After a lot of alcohol consumption on Kurt's part towards the end of the night, there was even an awkward speech were Kurt pondered the likelihood of scoring with some of the boys back in McKinley now that he was set to be famous. He may have dropped some glee club boys' names. Neither Quinn nor Rachel was sure, and they didn't ask.

They closed the bar and deposited Kurt back to his hotel room. Once inside and in his bed, he wouldn't let them leave until they all did a shot curtsey of the mini fridge, where he made yet another toast: this one to tiny liquor bottles.

By the time Rachel and Quinn got home, they were moderately buzzed and really rather horny. It was very early in the morning, sure, and they were both beyond exhausted, but sex was a must. So sex they had. A lot of it. They barely slept.

Which is why they were both half-dead as Mercedes excitedly babbled away in the back of the taxi, not noticing or caring that her friends were only responding in grunts.

When they arrived at the studio, Todd—the man in charge—greeted them at the door and escorted them up the two flights of stairs to where Mercedes would be recording her first album—an album she wrote and composed herself. Todd passed them off to Benny—the producer/engineer—with a smile, and excused himself. Todd liked Quinn, but Mercedes was a nobody; he was far too big to work on the girl's first album. Benny, his new hire, was completely capable, if a little too new. But he had to get his start from somewhere. Todd would go over the album once it was complete and give it his okay before sending it off. Todd was used to working with A-list stars. Quinn rented the studio, her artist got to record there. If and when Mercedes hit it big, _then _Todd would step in.

Everyone was onboard. Mercedes was excited to record something she worked so hard on. It was still a little rough, but she had sat down with each and every one of the members of New Directions living in Lima and Mr. Schue to get their opinions. They each helped her arrange different parts of the chorus, melodies, and lyrics until everyone was satisfied. Quinn swooped in and set up a small concert that would be held in Lima the next day. Recording before then would allow Quinn to promote the album at the concert for those interested. The only person who hadn't contributed to the album, ironically enough, was Rachel Berry. But Mercedes was pretty sure Rachel had everything to do with Quinn success, so indirectly the girl _did _help.

"This is so exciting!" Rachel squealed and squeezed Mercedes' shoulders as Benny led them through a small sitting area. They passed a kitchen as the hallway wrapped around into an even larger sitting area complete with leather couches, a flat-screen TV, and the soundboard. To their right was the glass enclosure where Mercedes would sing her heart out. Every instrument under the sun was already set up in the recording space, and Mercedes quickly went into the room to prepare, Rachel following closely behind to check out the space herself. Really, they just held hands and jumped around as they squealed loudly.

Quinn watched as the two girls inspected each corner, pointing things out to one another, and jabbering breathlessly. Quinn smiled as Rachel came out, suddenly buzzing with energy despite her exhaustion. "She looks really happy." Quinn smiled, taking a seat on the leather couch as she watched Mercedes.

Rachel plopped down on Quinn's lap and wrapped her arms around her, nuzzling into her neck. "_You _did that." Quinn hummed back, resting her forehead against Rachel's cheek.

Finally Mercedes was warmed up and ready to start talking with Benny over the technical aspects of the album. Rachel squealed again as Mercedes beamed through the glass enclosure, placing her headphones on, and stepping up to the mike with a deep breath.

"We're ready for you, Mercedes," Benny told the girl through the intercom. She gave the young guy a thumbs up and took another deep breath as music played through her headphones.

"You look adorable right now." Quinn mumbled in Rachel's ear, eyes trained on her wife's excited face. It would probably be a long and exhausting day, just sitting back and watching Mercedes work, but Rachel insisted they didn't miss a minute of it. She didn't want Mercedes to be alone. She thought it was best that she and Quinn be there to give their support. And she thought it was imperative that Mercedes' representation—Quinn— be on-sight. Plus, it was just really freaking exhilarating for Rachel to be in a studio.

Rachel pulled her eyes away from Mercedes as her friend began to sing to glance down at the softly smiling Quinn. "I'm just so excited for her! I can't wait to see her in concert here, I can't wait to hear the album, I can't wait for _Mercedes!_" Rachel gushed, eyes shifting back to the singing girl.

Because Benny had his back to them and Mercedes' eyes were closed, too into the song she was belting out, Quinn felt no hesitation in sweeping Rachel's hair to the side and languidly scattering kissing up and down her wife's neck; Rachel's passion usually directly affected _Quinn's _passion. "I love seeing you like this." Quinn whispered, sliding her hands down Rachel's sides to run up and down Rachel's bare legs.

Rachel leaned her body back against Quinn's with a groaning chuckle, enjoying Quinn's hands on her. The music floating through the speakers in the room only added to their sudden moment. "This song is _sexy_." Rachel commented as she turned her head to bury it in Quinn's hair. Quinn's eyes slid shut as she nodded, just living in the feel of Rachel's skin against her hands.

"I can't wait to get you home again. For, like, _days_." Quinn whispered back, her arousal obvious in her voice.

"Back to our home, where you belong." Rachel finished, envisioning Quinn in their bed again, after all her traveling was finished. The distance killed her and it had only been a night. She hated to think about the up-coming week. They would talk about it, eventually. Figure out how it would all work. But it was very clear to both of them that distance wasn't an option.

"I can't wait to try out everything I imagined in L.A…after I got off the phone with you." Quinn hissed lightly in Rachel's ear before softly biting the lobe.

Rachel's body broke out in shivers; Quinn's voice was an orgasm producer. She reveled in the feel of Quinn's hands on her body as she palmed the back of Quinn's head and tugged lightly on the blonde hair in her fist.

"Like what?" Rachel choked out, envisioning all the things she and Quinn would do once they had a long stretch of time to just _be _will one another. Without trips or friends or any interruptions of any kind.

"Mmmmm, _God, Rach_, what I wouldn't do to you." Quinn moaned throatily, also enjoying a few visions. It didn't even cross her mind how completely natural it felt to voice her thoughts. "I want you on your stomach…"

"_Oh, God_." Rachel groaned.

"Running my hands up and down your naked body."

"Keep going, Quinn." Rachel panted, taking a hold of both Quinn's roaming hands in her own to guide them a little higher until the slipped under the hem of her skirt.

"Sliding my body back and forth on yours."

"Shit, that sounds _sooo_ good."

"Biting your thighs and spreading you."

"_Fuu-uck_."

"Moving my hands-"

"Wait, that sounds _bad_!" Rachel suddenly said, jerking upright and stilling Quinn's hands. Quinn froze as her face flushed, completely caught off-guard by Rachel's response and feeling quite embarrassed to have voiced her thoughts.

"Um…"

"Do you _hear _that?" Rachel asked, head cocked and eyes narrowed in thought.

It took Quinn a moment until she registered that Rachel was referring to the music playing, _not _the little fantasy that just got shattered in her head. Rachel was sliding off Quinn's lap and slowly approaching the soundboard, still listening hard.

Quinn huffed and flopped back on the couch. Her body felt over-heated and she had minor whiplash from Rachel's quick change. But Rachel knew music. And Mercedes was her client and friend. So she sat up a little straighter as guilt reddened her cheeks further, slightly ashamed that she had been too caught up in her wife to really listen to her friend record.

Rachel was just hovering over Benny's shoulder as the guy bobbed his head lightly to the music playing in his headphones. His hands moved about the board every once and a while, and Rachel's head was still cocked as she listened. "Is the melody going to crescendo soon?" Rachel asked, still looking focused. Benny nodded distractedly while Rachel blanched. "And the bridge is going to _stay _that way?" Benny shrugged.

Behind them, Quinn watched closely as her wife listened, ears perked. Rachel blindly sat down on the stool beside Benny, watching the man's hands move. "No, no, no, she shouldn't drop her voice there. And that run is far too soon." Rachel critiqued.

Quinn watched as Benny's eyes narrowed and dismissed what Rachel had just said. "What's going on, Rach?" Quinn asked, moving to the edge of the couch.

"The pacing is off." Rachel answered quickly before motioning for Mercedes to stop and come out.

"What are you doing? It sounds fine to me." Benny answered, leaning back in his seat and looking pissed.

"What's up, Rach?" Mercedes said, slightly out of breath as she emerged from the studio.

Benny continued to look irritated as Rachel shared her findings with Mercedes. "Okay, but Rach…do you _really _think-"

"Mercedes, I _know _what your voice is capable of. The lyrics are excellent and the music is incredible. I just think that if you slow down the bridge and fade out the music before the last chorus the song will be more powerful. _Then _do your run as you repeat the chorus. As is, the song is too top-heavy; you need to _save _something for the big finish. And more than that, it will give more focus to the lyrics."

Mercedes was thoughtful for a moment as the room went quiet. Quinn tried to picture Rachel's version but she was out of her depth. She could only sit back and watch Mercedes process this information. "And you need back-up vocals." Rachel quickly muttered, looking somewhat sheepish with her hard critique.

Slowly, Mercedes made her way over to the couch and crumpled down next to Quinn. "What was I thinking that I could pull this off?" Rachel quickly rushed to her side.

"Mercedes, I'm _so _sorry you took it that way. You're _amazing _and you're so ready for this! Please don't listen to me; I'm very tired and more than a little concupiscent so I probably imagined the whole thing." Rachel concluded, kneeing down on the floor and grasping Mercedes' hands.

Mercedes' eyebrow rose as she looked over at a blushing Quinn. "Concupiscent?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and blew out a breath, fluttering her bangs. "Horny."

Mercedes' face contorted in mild aversion at Rachel's over share as Quinn covered her blushing face. A full minute passed without a sound. Benny was huffing in the corner as Rachel looked up anxiously at Mercedes, sure she really hurt her friend. "What do you think, Quinn?" Mercedes asked quietly.

Quinn pursed her lips before glancing over at her friend. "What matters, Mercedes, is what youthink; this is your studio time and your album."

Mercedes nodded as she thought that over. "I think that a sleep or…" Mercedes winced, "_sex _deprived Rachel Berry is _still _Rachel Berry." Mercedes muttered, seemingly to herself. "You got _the best_ musical ear, Rach, and if you say there is something wrong with it, then you're probably right."

"Mercedes, I'm so sorry-"

"Nah, Rach." Mercedes said, holding up her hand. "You're probably right. So…what can we do to change it?" She asked, smiling a little unsurely.

Rachel released a breath and got to her feet. "Well for starters, hiring a backup vocalist would really thicken the song and the tempo should only get-"

Again, Mercedes held up her hand. "Rachel, why don't you just tell the man what to do, and we'll get it done."

Quinn was looking back and forth between the pair and held up her hand. "We don't have time to hire a backup vocalist; we only have today." _Or the money_, Quinn thought.

Rachel's shoulders slumped but Mercedes could only chuckle into her hands before she was looking up at Rachel. "Can I say something I've wanted to say since…_forever_?" Rachel's brows furrowed as she watched Mercedes giggle again. "Rachel Berry, why don't _you_ sing backup for _me_?"

Rachel beamed as she stood at her full height. "Why, I would _love _to Mercedes."

"And go talk to Benny over there about fixing things." Mercedes said, waving her hand at the engineer who was too busy watch TV to actually produce.

"Perhaps we should go over my thoughts, and you could see if you'd still like to-" Mercedes, for the third time, cut Rachel off.

"Rach, I trust you. Just do what you think is best and then get in that studio with me so we can belt it out like old times." Rachel beamed again and spun on her heel to whip Benny into shape.

"That was really sweet, Mercedes." Quinn said with a smile.

Mercedes laughed as she slowly got to her feet. "She's definitely a different Rachel Berry than I remember. But she still doesn't shut her mouth; lucky for me—I want this album to be perfect."

"She'll take care of you." Quinn said, watching how her wife was bullying Benny into action.

"What does this thingy do?" Rachel asked, listening hard to Benny's answer. "And this one?"

Mercedes laughed at Rachel's antics. "I know she'll take care of me. And that's why I ain't worried. Rachel Berry's producing my first album. Lord help me." Mercedes mumbled as she went back into the studio.

Two hours later, Rachel and Quinn were headed up to the roof access of the recording studio, taking a breather while Mercedes worked out a few kinks with Benny. Rachel felt like she was walking on air. Working with Mercedes again had been invigorating, challenging, and just plain old _fun_.

They pushed one another. Made faces at each other as they tried to out-sing the other—all in good fun. Mercedes had been right. It had been like old times. Only now they were older and more mature. They knew one another and their talents. Rachel pushed Mercedes until she hit every note the way Rachel knew she could. They laughed at the end of each take, recapping pitch and busting on one another's blunders as they downed gulps of water.

Rachel inhaled the New York air as she rested her hands on the roof's tall ledge. "I could do this all day." She smiled, eyes closed. Quinn enveloped her, resting her chin on Rachel's shoulder.

"It sounds amazing."

"Mercedes did a fantastic job; a subtle blend of rhythm and blues-pop that narrates the importance of being a strong woman—_very_ Mercedes."

"And very you." Quinn whispered by Rachel's ear.

"Naturally. Benny made a _mess _of things; I'm so glad we fired him as producer. He's much more suited as an engineer at this stage in his career." Quinn chuckled against Rachel neck. "I'm just so glad Mercedes trusts me! I'm still actually surprised she did."

"I'm not. You've always been talented, superstar."

"Yes, well…I've never done anything like this before…so…"

"But like Mercedes said, you _know _music."

"Well, I've had extensive training." Rachel answered matter-of-factly with a shrug.

Quinn chuckled again before placing a series of kissing on Rachel's cheek. They grew quiet as they watched New York bustle a few stories below. "Would _you _like to record an album one day?"

Rachel thought about that seriously before answering. "Of course." She shrugged. It was always a part of her ten-year plan. Her ten-year plan, however, went out the window when Quinn came along. Everything was on-track still, if not a little ahead of schedule. Or _a lot _ahead of schedule, actually, Rachel considered. Two successful movies with one in the works, a Tony nomination for her Broadway debut, and a marriage that was more than she ever dreamed it could be. And all before twenty-five. At this rate, Rachel would have her EGOT before thirty!

"Tanner Abrams wanted you to record an album with him; you can when you're ready." Quinn said, thinking about the benefit. Tanner was the reason they were at the studio at all. They were recording the album on Tanner's dime, having a concert in Lima, and then coming back to New York so that Mercedes can put on a New York concert any big star would dream of. All with the promise that one day Rachel would record with Tanner. It didn't hurt that Tanner _loved_ the recordings Quinn gave him of Mercedes.

Rachel titled her head and glanced over her shoulder at her wife. "You didn't tell me that." Her face scrunched up in confusion.

"You were standing right there when he said it, Rach!" Quinn laughed.

"Well, Quinn, you were_ also_ standing right there, and I can hardly be judged for the distraction." Rachel frowned. The idea of recording an album now, though, was quickly dismissed by Rachel. She was _far _from ready. Sure, here and there she'd jot a few lyrics down. Usually she gave them as gifts to Quinn. Like the Christmas before last, she wrote a song about her wife's luscious rear end. She wasn't so sure if that was first single material, however. Those songs were constructed for Quinn's ears only, well before the truth came out. "Perhaps I should start writing." Rachel thought, liking the idea of working towards some studio time of her own.

"I think that's a great idea. It will give you something to do while I'm gone."

Rachel sighed heavily as she leaned back into Quinn. "I don't want to think about that. It's bad enough that my own fathers tweet me regularly, bragging over how you'll stay with them and plump them up."

"We're also going antique shopping." Quinn chuckled, getting Rachel to frown.

"Those _bastards_." Rachel murmured.

"Guys?" Mercedes said, poking her head through the roof access door. "We're ready for ya." She said before going back inside.

"Antique shopping without me." Rachel fumed as she and Quinn held hands and made their way over to the door.

"You make it sound like I'll be cheating on you or something." Quinn laughed.

"_You?_" Rachel cried. "_They're _cheating on _me_! You're the daughter they wished they had!" Rachel declared dramatically, throwing her arms up in the air, getting Quinn to smile and shake her head. "We'll just have to increase my cooking lessons; clearly their hearts are in their stomachs, and I'll be _damned _if you outshine me to my own fathers!"

"They do love me more."

"Oh, hush!" Rachel frowned as they made their way down the steps to the studio. "It's bad enough that my three favorite people will all be in Lima at the same time! You rubbing salt in the wound doesn't help!"

Quinn smiled adoringly as they entered the studio. "I'm sorry. I'm just excited to see them. And it's not like you'll be alone here! Sam and Mike will be flying in on Saturday after the concert, and you already have plans with your Julliard friends. You'll be plenty busy."

"_Hmpf_!" Rachel huffed despondently. "That's only this weekend! What about next week? What if you're gone for a _month_?"

Quinn quirked her eyebrow as she held in her laughter. "Rach, I'll be gone a week tops. I don't see why my business in Ohio should take any longer than that."

"But you don't _know_!" Rachel challenged, holding up a finger close to Quinn's smiling face. "You still have to get Santana, Brittany, and Tina completely situated, deal with Sylvester and her completely ridiculous ambition to write that play even though I have no idea why you're helping her despite the fact that you claim to feel some moral obligation, and help Puckerman with his restaurant! You could be gone forever!"

"I also kind of think I should meet with Artie." Quinn said, biting her lip. "I feel kind of bad leaving him behind."

Rachel gasped. "He grabbed my butt at our _wedding_!"

"But he's a good guy, and I have plans to make him _suffer_ before helping him."

Rachel threw up her arms. "You're never coming back! You're just going to stay in Ohio, fattening up my worshiping fathers, helping the less fortunate, and probably falling in love with Noah where you'll both live happily ever after, cooking amazing food in that restaurant of his!"

Quinn expression was blank as she stared down at Rachel. "Seriously? _That's _the life you think I'm going to lead?"

Rachel sputtered as her arms flailed. "Well I don't know! Lima's a black hole! We were lucky to get out the first time!"

"Yes." Quinn said as she moved closer to Rachel, placing her hands on her wife's arms to calm her. "And that's why I'm doing my best to get everyone I care about _out_. We _were _really fortunate. _I _was really fortunate that you came back for me. I would like to repay that debt to people I care about—people _you _care about. I'm really looking forward to being with your fathers, I'm excited that I get to put together Mercedes' first concert and be there to watch Sam and his ridiculous boyband open up for her while Mike Chang dances off-stage, mimicking the dance moves he taught them while Lauren Zizies stands in front of the stage with her arms folded across her chest scowling at the crowd doing her security detail.

"I can't wait to help Britt and San back up all their crap and go with them to pick out all the furniture and baby shit they need and can actually pay for. To be there when Tina quits her job at Jane Adams and finally gets the spotlight. To help Puck get the ball rolling on his restaurant. To tell Artie that I'm going to get him out of there too. In short, I can't wait to actually make these people _happy_. Something I never did in high school.

"Because, Rachel, while you were getting picked on, I was the one doing all the picking. Because I pushed everyone away when things got so dark for me. I want to make their dreams come true, like you did for me. Like _you _did for me!" Quinn emphasized. "And when I'm done doing all that, I'm coming right back here to the person that continues to make all my dreams come true."

"You better mean me." Rachel pouted, looking down at her feet.

Quinn sighed. "Why are you pouting?"

Rachel's head jerked up until she was staring at Quinn with wide eyes. "Cause when you say stuff like that, Quinn Fabray, it makes me want you to leave even _less_!" Rachel admonished.

Quinn cracked a smile. "I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise."

"I know, I know." Rachel sighed, blindly wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck as she buried her face into Quinn's dress. "I'm just being silly."

"Yes, you are. Now can we get back to recording my album or do I need to get the hose out on you two?" Both girls looked up to where Mercedes and Benny were standing—Benny, awkwardly, Mercedes with her hands on her hips.

Many hours later, Rachel and Quinn were back in their apartment. Rachel watched dispassionately as Quinn double checked everything she had packed for her long trip. She couldn't shake the feeling that she'd never see Quinn again. She felt an overwhelming urge to drop to her knees and cling to her wife's leg and plead for her to either stay or take Rachel with her. But she couldn't do that. So instead, she pulled the white bed sheets closer to her naked body and reminded herself that she would be busy with friends—old and new—and, when she was alone, there was always her upcoming album to consider.

Now that the idea was floating in her head, Rachel was eager to start writing. It was, perhaps, years off, but it couldn't hurt to jot down some lyrics here or there to pass the time. And, as Rachel admired her wife's very luscious rear end as she bent over her stuffed suitcase, she also considered she had _plenty _of material to write about.

"Okay, I guess I'm ready." Quinn said as she stood, looking none too pleased to finally be set for the airport. The idea of traveling back to Lima, especially without Rachel, was making her feel slightly nauseated. She was excited to meet with everyone, but the prospect of running into her parents or anyone else from McKinley she didn't want to see troubled her.

Rachel sat up in the bed and pouted. "I don't want you to go just yet." She mumbled forlornly. Quinn sighed and began lugging her bags out into the living room. Rachel wouldn't be accompanying her to the airport; she needed to be at the theater soon.

"I know." Quinn breathed out, more to herself. It didn't help her resolve that Rachel was naked underneath those sheets. So instead of going back into the bedroom, where the temptation would be too great, she rooted around the kitchen to make sure Rachel had plenty of food. Quinn _may _have prepared a few meals just in case; although Rachel was learning to cook, and learning fast at that, Quinn couldn't help but worry.

Technically, Rachel thought, Quinn didn't needto be at the airport for another two and half hours. So, without further prompting, Rachel slid out of bed and tiptoed into the living room with the bed sheet molded tightly to her body. She watched as Quinn busied herself for a moment as she leaned against the archway. "'I _know _you wanna leave me, but I refuse to let you go'." Quinn whipped around at the sound of her wife's voice. Rachel was standing there smirking at her, looking quite proud of herself. "'If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy'," Rachel pouted as she slowly lowered herself to her knees. "'I don't mind coz' you mean that much to me, ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin'."

Quinn started laughing as she watched Rachel crawl on her hands and knees over to her, the bed sheet getting tangled before her wife was completely naked as she continued to sing and crawl over to Quinn. "'Please don't leave me girl, don't you go'." Rachel sang, wrapping her bare arms around Quinn's leg as she pouted up at her.

She only let Rachel get another line in before Quinn sank to her knees and looped her arms around her wife's neck. "Please don't do this, Rach." Quinn said with a laugh, dropping her gaze slowly down Rachel's naked body. It was torture.

"'Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darling'." Rachel reiterated playfully, letting her hands splay up under Quinn's dress until she was cupping her wife's ass and leveling her with a disarming pout.

"Rachel Berry," Quinn said with a sly smile. "Did you just give me an impromptu arrangement of a classic doo-wop song to keep me here longer?" Quinn asked, thinking of how she sang to Rachel almost a week before to keep her in bed instead of going out with Jesse.

Rachel sat up on her knees a little and titled her head in confusion as her eyebrows knitted. "Quinn, my performances are never impromptu; I've been practicing for days."

"Of course you have." Quinn answered with a fond smile as she gathered Rachel's hair in her hand and placed it over her wife's left shoulder.

"Of course I have." Rachel replied as her one hand kneaded her wife's ass as the other reached around Quinn's back to the zipper of her dress. "Now let's get you out of this silly dress."

A painful whimpered moan got lodged in Quinn's throat as she felt Rachel lower the zipper as her lips latch on to Quinn's neck. "I can't miss my flight, Rach."

"_Mmmm_, you won't."

Quinn dipped her fingers into Rachel's hair to keep her in place as her hips arched to meet her wife's body. "But Puck will be calling soon about our meeting with the other investors."

"You'll call him later." Rachel mumbled as she continued to nibble along the sexy column of her throat. Quinn giggled heartily at Rachel's command and allowed her wife to pull her dress down. It would be fruitless to argue with a naked Rachel, and, furthermore, Quinn really didn't want to; why waste time in an airport when you could be making love to Rachel Berry?

Rachel cupped Quinn's jaw as the dress floated down to expose her wife's breasts. Rachel immediately moved one hand down to weigh a bare breast in her hand, loving the sound of Quinn's instant hiss then moan as she voiced her appreciation. Rachel's other hand continued to keep Quinn still so she could intently kiss her, swallowing her moans as she savored Quinn's taste. This could be their last kiss for a while after all, and Rachel wanted to make sure she could memorize each glide and suck for the lonely, cold nights without the solid presence of her wife to keep her sated.

"Sit up." Rachel commanded softly before diving her tongue back into Quinn's opened mouth, still cupping a breast and pinching a nipple as she held the strong line of Quinn's jaw. Quinn obeyed, rising her butt off the backs of her legs and sitting up on to her knees, loving the command and how it made Rachel's voice sound; husky, deep, and thoroughly lustful.

Once Quinn was up on her knees, Rachel dragged her hand from her cheek down to the breast she wasn't groping, down her twitching stomach, and finally, twisting her wrist so she could cup Quinn through her drenched panties.

"So...not leaving...ever." Quinn whined as Rachel's mouth nibbled on her earlobe and her hand slowly caressed Quinn back and forth over her underwear. Quinn fleetingly wondered why Rachel felt it necessary to remove her dress, why not just go underneath? But that question was answered as she looked up at her wife's face: Rachel was staring hungrily down the length of Quinn's exposed body.

Rachel hummed her contentment, but was far too busy to fully respond. She was caught up in the entirely too distracting feel of the softness of Quinn's panties and the wetness that streaked her fingers. She couldn't wait to peel Quinn's panties down her toned thighs and legs to really feel all of her.

Quinn's cell chimed close by in her purse, and she groaned miserably. "That's Puck."

"I don't care." Rachel mumbled back and squeezed Quinn's breast hard as she ground her two fingertips down firmly on Quinn's clit. Quinn reacted instantly, whimpering as she half arched, half crumbled. She found herself, suddenly, on her back with Rachel removing her dress completely, with her underwear following.

When she arched her neck at the feel of Rachel's lips kissing and sucking on her stomach, Quinn could see her purse on the floor not far away, with her ringing cell sticking out of the top. "I have to answer that, Rach." Quinn gasped, knowing somewhere in the back of her head—through a haze of lust and need—that Puck's call was important.

Rachel was back hovering over her, staring down at Quinn with dark eyes. "_He's _more important than _me_? Than _this_?" She asked breathlessly with a hint of a growl.

"I-" Quinn wasn't really sure how to answer. It was clear to her by Rachel's tone and trained stare that wanted an answer. And soon. But Rachel couldn't _really_ think that Quinn would ever place Noah Puckerman before her, did she?

But she had to answer the call. This wasn't just business. The call was time sensitive. She needed the details from Puck _before _she got on her flight so she could research on the plane. And Puck didn't have a lot of time to chat either. She had questions she needed to ask him. Needed to do her homework. _Surely _Rachel could understand that. "Rach, I need to-" Quinn extended her arm over her head to reach for her phone. But her plans were waylaid when she felt two firm hands trap her arms in place against the floor.

A noise got caught in her throat as her attention was jerked away from her glowing phone and back to Rachel's intense face—stunned by Rachel's actions. "No." Rachel said deeply, slowly lowering her naked body atop Quinn's.

Quinn moaned as she felt her wife settle between her thighs, their wetness meeting each other's skin. "Rach-"

"_No_." Rachel growled, leaning forward to place her forehead against Quinn's shoulder and bury her teeth in the pale skin of her neck.

"Oh, _God_!" Quinn moaned loudly—arms pinned down, neck assaulted by Rachel's mouth, the slow, torturous rocking her wife's body against hers.

"You think I _forgot _that it was him that made us wait to sleep together? Do you think I forgot that it was _he _who touched you first? That was in _love _with you?"

"Fuck, _Rach_." Quinn panted, her body withering as Rachel thrust against her, sliding together so perfectly that Quinn would tremble roughly each time their clits met.

The sound of Quinn's phone chimed again. Over and over. "You're _mine_. You got that? _Mine_."

She couldn't make head or tails of anything right now. She no longer _wanted _to answer her phone. Quinn had been at the mercy of Rachel quite a few times over the years, and especially in the last week. But never had she ever been controlled like this before. Pinned down. Almost helpless. Listening to Rachel's frenzied hisses that she owned Quinn. That she was hers. That Quinn _liked _being controlled like this.

"You're not going." Rachel groaned, rocking her hips harder as she lifted herself off Quinn so that only their centers slid together. She stared down at Quinn, very aware that her wife's eyes were watching her swaying breasts as she continued to hold her down. "I'm not letting you leave." Rachel croaked out, eyes fluttering shut as she felt each word she spoke drive her orgasm closer.

At Rachel's words, Quinn whined pathetically in the back of her throat, unable to rip her gaze away from Rachel. From her pouting and pants lips, to her straining neck, bouncing breasts, contracting stomach, down to where they met over and over again with renewed vigor. Rachel let out a gasp that got stifled by Quinn's answering moan.

Rachel felt her clit swell, and she quickly leaned down as her eyes slammed shut until her lips were brushing Quinn's. "_I forbid it_." Rachel hissed before Quinn met jumped forward to delve her tongue deep into Rachel's mouth.

Their moans eclipsed the sound of Quinn's phone chiming once again, and Quinn's loud, high whimpers escalated the harder and faster Rachel rocked. She tried to twist out of Rachel's grasp, wanting desperately to hold onto her wife to tether herself as she came, but Rachel's grip only got tighter as she followed the her body's thundering instructions to slide against Quinn so that each shudder and spasm she felt would consume her.

"Oh, God! _Yesss_!" Rachel gasped, stretching her body across Quinn's length as her clit pulsated and swelled. She took her hands from Quinn's arms, and instead, kept Quinn's hips still as she slowly rocked against her wife to ride out her ongoing orgasm. Rachel moaned into the soft skin between Quinn's breasts, panting in exhaustion until she could fight through the tension in her body. With a satisfied groan, Rachel placed a sloppy kiss to Quinn's chest before rolling off of her and curling up on the floor.

Quinn cursed lightly, so close to orgasm herself, and now without the pressure of Rachel to get her there. Rachel lazily blinked up at and lifted Quinn's hand off from the floor to drag it down her own pale stomach until she was cupping herself with Rachel's hand over hers.

Rachel scooted closer until her breath was washing over Quinn's ear and her breasts were pressed to Quinn's side. Quinn's chest was heaving with understanding of Rachel's intentions. "_Touch yourself_." Rachel breathed out softly before sucking on the lobe. She moaned throatily and continued. "I want to watch what you did when you thought of me."

Quinn could barely breathe but nodded slowly. She felt Rachel's hand control her own until she was parting herself through abundant wetness. "I want you to touch yourself and remember this moment when you're alone with him. Remember what I made you feel. What I made you do." Quinn's gasp turned into a shrill moan as Rachel pressed down on her hand. She turned, mouth open in awe, to stare at Rachel's dark eyes. "I've never seen you look so fucking gorgeous, Quinn."

Rachel's lips left a trail of kisses on the round of Quinn's shoulder as they both moved their hands, Quinn, pumping faster as she watched Rachel watch her. The tension in her lower stomach twisted and tightened the more she stared at Rachel. The harder she fucked herself. When she felt Rachel's long fingers drift over her own until she entered her. "Oh, God, oh, God!" Quinn chanted, circling her clit faster than even before as Rachel slid in and out. Her body bowed and turned into Rachel's, burying herself in her wife's hair as her hand took on a life of its own and Rachel repeatedly entered her with deep thrusts. "Fuck, Rachel…I'm coming!" The words getting strangled as her hips rose to meet Rachel's strokes.

She collapsed in Rachel's arms heavily and allowed her wife to hold her as she fought to catch her breath. Rachel turned into her, draping an arm over her back to dance her wet fingertips against her skin.

"Quinn, baby." Rachel purred, kissing the top of her head. Quinn nuzzled deeper in her and felt Rachel squeeze her ass once before she was softly patting it. "You better hurry up before you miss your flight." And then the warmth around Quinn was gone and Rachel was standing, walking away from Quinn as though nothing had just happened. "Oh, and Quinn?" Rachel said calmly. Quinn was still panting as she arched her neck to look back at her wife. "Catch." Quinn inhaled sharply as her cell phone landed on her stomach, glowing back at her innocently.

X

Hiram Berry stood casually, leaning against the family car, peering out of his sunglasses as his husband fidgeted excitedly at his side. Leroy couldn't stay still. Once the airplane taxied the runway, Leroy gave small leaps of joy as he rung his hands. "She won't come stay with us anymore if this is how you act." Hiram told his husband warningly.

"It's been far too long!" Leroy expelled around a giant smile. As Quinn got out of the small plane, a bag slung around her shoulder, she extended her arms wide and beamed at the two men.

"Our little girl's finally home!" Hiram said, forgetting himself, and took off towards Quinn.

Both men where there as she stepped off the plane and Hiram was the first one with his arms around her as she squealed her pleasure.

"My turn, my turn!" Leroy clapped. Quinn laughed and gave him a big hug as Hiram scooped up her luggage.

"Hi!" Quinn smiled, draping an arm around both men as they took off towards the terminal to retrieve her suitcase. "Miss me?"

"We were already at the supermarket getting everything on your list and have three bottles of La Crema Chardonnay chilling, and we have our routes all picked out for a full day of antiquing early tomorrow before the concert!" Leroy supplied, shaking his hands happily just like Rachel would do when she was particularly excited. .

"Lead the way!" Quinn chuckled.

Maybe it was because she didn't speak to her own family and that was why she loved her in-laws as much as she did. After all, they treated her as though she was the second coming, and that was new to Quinn. Before the truth came out, she was always hesitant around the Berry men, feeling as though she was breaking their hearts right along with Rachel's. But now, she absolutely loved their attention and craved their acceptance.

It didn't take much, though.

"Quinn, you've utterly _topped _yourself with this baked ziti with roasted vegetables." Hiram said as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his full stomach.

"Simply magnificent!" Leroy rejoined, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin.

"Thank you." Quinn said shyly. "Just don't tell Rachel I made it for you; I only make it for her on our anniversary because it's a special meal to us." Special because it was the first meal Quinn made in New York.

Leroy smiled, eyes twinkling. "Wouldn't dream of it!" He took a sip of wine and smiled. "When will the Oscar nominations be out? How's Rachel dealing with that? Every time I try and talk to her all she can respond with is excited squeals!"

"As she should!" Hiram thundered as he sat back in his chair. "Our little girl could very well be a Tony _and _Academy Award nominated actress. I've been squealing as well!"

Quinn laughed. "Me too, honestly. And we should be hearing soon. The rest of _Which of You _probably won't be recognized, but all the Trades are still insisting that she should be nominated."

"Well, there is some stiff competition, though; all the big names have worked this year." Leroy said, pointing his wine glass at her.

Quinn smiled. "But they're not Rachel."

"No they are _not_. Now, let's get good and wasted on this wine and prank call her voicemail!"

The phone barely rang before Rachel answered it, mumbling tiredly. "Rachel Berry's phone, how may I be of service?"

Quinn smiled, completely charmed that her wife always answered the phone like that. "I'll tell you how you can service me. But first, what are you wearing?"

Rachel smirked and rolled onto her back, checking the clock at the time. "Excuse me ma'am, that's _none _of your business!" She answered playfully.

"And why not?" Quinn smiled, even though her voice made it seemed as though she was pouting.

"Because, I'm a married woman! I can't just give that information away!"

"Married huh?" Quinn smiled. "Well if you're married, where's your wife?"

Rachel ducked her head into her neglected pillow she was using as a Quinn substitute and giggled. "Away on business." She husked seductively.

Quinn scoffed. "She left you and your incredibly sexy voice for _business_? Insane. Leave her at once and marry me."

"Where are you?" Rachel chuckled and got cozier under the blankets.

"Your old room."

"Hmmm, and what have you been doing all night? Spoiling my fathers like crazy and turning them against me, I presume?"

"Naturally. They told me today I was like the daughter they never had."

Rachel snorted loudly. "That's because you _are _the daughter they never had. But don't let your guard down, Fabray, cause I've been cooking here in your stead and you'll have a run for your money!"

"Is that so?" Quinn asked, smiling at the image in her head of Rachel in the kitchen. She twirled the ring on her finger as she leaned against the head board, wishing her wife was in the bed as well; they could make good use of the sound-proofed room.

"I had some of my Julliard friends over after the show this evening and cooked _quite _a meal, missy. My fathers will love me again soon enough!"

"So the student has become the master, _hmmm_?"

"And when you come home to a perfectly cleaned house, I will sit your luscious rear end down and cater to your every nutritional fancy!"

Quinn couldn't help but chuckle as she slumped down under the covers. "Will you be wearing an apron?"

"Of course!"

"And _only _an apron?" Quinn purred.

"Of course." Rachel leered back. "I'll be your perfect little Stepford Wife."

"Promises, promises." Quinn sing-songed, loving their banter.

They both drew quiet as they listened to the others' breathing. It hadn't even been a full day yet and they missed one another like crazy. "How are my fathers?" Rachel eventually asked, not wanting to voice her sadness.

"They're _fabulous_." Quinn drawled as she rolled onto her stomach. "They got me drunk."

Rachel chuckled. "I could tell. Receiving multiple voice messages from 'Anita VaJina', 'Max E. Pad', and 'Amanda Huggenkiss' tipped me off."

Quinn giggled tiredly. "Anita was mine."

"Hmmhmm, nice fake accent by the way."

"I sounded regal."

"You sure did, wifey. I could have done without my daddy's Heywood Jablomi, however." Rachel cringed.

"Yeah, sorry about that one; we were on bottle of wine number three and running out of names. I bet'tcha liked my Hugh G. Rection, though." Quinn grinned, proud of herself.

Rachel laughed loudly. "Promises, promises." She sing-songed back to her wife.

Quinn's eyebrow flew up at the innuendo as the lovely visions of fucking Rachel with a strap-on flashed through her head. "Quinn?" Rachel asked after several long seconds went by without a retort.

"I-I'm here." Quinn mumbled back, her voice several octaves deeper.

"And _where_, may I ask, did you just go?" Rachel smirked, also letting her thoughts wonder.

"I would tell you," Quinn smiled through her blush, "but I feel like it would be somewhat scandalous to say in front of your mammoth collection of stuffed animals."

Rachel chuckled tiredly as she sunk lower into bed. "The sheets smell like you."

On the other line, Quinn pouted. "Your old sheets no longer smell like you. That makes me sad."

Not wanting to bring their mood down, Rachel changed topics. "So tell me about the concert planning. What still needs to be done?"

They stayed on the phone with one another until very late. It was well into the early hours of the morning when Rachel groaned her frustration, unable to sleep, again, without Quinn at her side.

Her mind kept playing tricks on her. Convincing her that Quinn would never come back. That she'd say in Lima, or move to L.A., or even move to the city to lovingly work in Puck's kitchen where they'd inevitably fall in love over a vegan sweet potato soufflé.

By Saturday's show, Rachel felt dead on her feet from her sleepless nights. Between her two o'clock show and her eight o'clock show, she chatted with Quinn about the concert preparations, and even got the opportunity to talk Mercedes and Sam down from their performance anxieties. She gave them all her techniques to avoiding stage fright—although, Rachel couldn't recall a time when she ever felt that way—and assured them that they would be fantastic.

Lydia and Jeremy happily kept her company in between and after her Sunday shows. She even begged them to let her take some dog walks off their hands Monday when the theatre would be dark just to distract her. To say the least, it was quite a surprise for Mr. and Mrs. Strunk and their little pug, Nancy Drew, when Rachel Berry knocked on their door and told them she was there to walk their dog. Secretly, the Strunks had started using Quinn's dog walking company on the off chance that that very thing could happen. And, as it turned out, every other client Rachel visited that day were of like minds. Taking pictures and signing autographs in between walks had been _very_ therapeutic.

But as the week went by, it was getting more and more difficult for Rachel to fill her time. Her days were spent walking dogs and trying to write songs for her future album. Her evenings were at the theatre and being babysat by her friends. In bed, she talked to Quinn. Caught up with her. Listened as she excitedly told Rachel about life in Lima and discussed Quinn's crumbling future at Conduit and her choices.

So far, it was proving to be a slow week for Rachel.

Quinn's life in Ohio was much better. She was too busy to really harp on how much she missed Rachel. Which she did, truly and agonizingly so. But whenever she wasn't visiting her friends from glee club, Mr. Schue, working with Sue, or at Puck's restaurant, she was with her in-laws. It simultaneously hurt and helped being around the two men—they reminded her so very much of the woman she loved.

X

"Jesse! _Finally_! Where have you been?" Rachel asked as she turned on her heel and retreated back towards the bedroom where her open notebook sat waiting.

Jesse looked around the pristine apartment and frowned. "Did you hire a cleaning lady or something?"

Rachel settled herself on her bed and frowned at him. "No, I cleaned it myself, thank you very much." She humfed.

Jesse's eyebrow rose as he puckered his lips, appraising her. It was very clear by Rachel's fifteen voicemails and twenty-five texts that she was missing Quinn. "What are you working on?" He asked as he lifted his chin towards her notebook.

Rachel sat up and beamed. "Why, thank you for asking. This notebook is why I called you."

"Which time?" He drawled out, bored, and sat down on the ottoman in front of the bed.

Rachel frowned again. "All the times!" She rearranged herself until she was sitting comfortably Indian style, and placed the notebook on her lap. "When I was in the studio with Mercedes, Quinn informed me that it was possible for me to start my _own _album."

Jesse's eyebrows flew up to his hairline. "Already?"

"I could start recording tomorrow if I'd like." Rachel replied primly.

"So why aren't I meeting you at the studio instead of your freakishly clean apartment?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm not _ready _to record anything yet." She explained patiently. "First I want to record my own material; I'll be damned if my first album is written by some hack or I'm made to record horrid covers that have been done before. No. For my first album I want every little detail created and overseen by the most talented person I know."

Jesse grinned. "And _that's _why you called me."

"I was talking about myself." Rachel deadpanned as she flipped to a page in her notebook. "I've been doing my very best to remain busy while Quinn is away. And since I have the downtime, I thought, perhaps, it would be a good idea to start writing my own material. A record is a while down the road…six months, I'm thinking." She said offhandedly.

Jesse couldn't help but be impressed by her confidence.

"Anyway, I've written a few songs and wanted to get your opinion?"

Jesse got up and pulled the ottoman away from the bed to better face his friend. He crossed one leg over the other and waved at her to start. "I am, as they say, all ears. _Wow_ me, Rachel Berry-Fabray."

Rachel cocked her head. "I like Rachel Fabray."

"Please tell me you're not going to change your name; it's like getting matching tattoos with your significant other—a complete jinx."

"Oh, I'm keeping Rachel Berry as my stage name, I just really like the sound of Rachel Fabray." Rachel answered dreamily.

"And you've spoken to the Ice Queen about that?"

Rachel was thoughtful. "Not yet, but I don't think Quinn would mind."

Jesse smirked. "How did you know I was talking about Quinn? There must be trouble in paradise if you, too, consider your lovely wife an ice queen."

Rachel rolled her eyes again. "Please, Jesse, I know how you feel about Quinn. And I also know it's a complete show; you adore her." Rachel said with a brimming smile.

Jesse frowned. "I just don't understand why we can't be best friends; she is absolutely charmed by me and I think it's about time she starts showing it!"

"I know, Jesse, I know." Rachel consoled. "Anyway, back to the music!"

"Yes, I'm trilled to be the first to hear your brilliance." Jesse paused. "I am the first, correct?"

"Oh yes." Rachel was quick to nod before tilting her head in thought. "Although Muffie wanted to hear a few of the lyrics when I took her on a walk today."

Jesse waved the comment away. "Dogs don't count. I'm the first and that's all that matters. Now dazzle me." He commanded, leaning forward to rest his elbow on his crossed knee so he could cradle his chin in his palm.

"Okay." Rachel said as she sat up straight. "_Mememe_-_mememe_." She practiced, placing a finger in her ear so she could find the right key. She took one last deep breath as she fixed her eyes to her friend, not needing to read the lyrics she already memorized. "You are all alone," She sang mournfully, stretching out the words in a beautiful tune that got Jesse to sit up straighter. "_Constantly _pushed aside. I don't _hold _you, it's not your shoulder against which _I_ cry!" Jesse tilted his head a little, not sure if he likes how angsty the song was. "But you _are_ secure." Rachel stressed passionately. "_Please _never have a doubt. Soft and _pliable_. No reason to frown and pout." Jesse's eyebrows furrowed. "I _promise _to one day, drool and snore—my breath a soft billow. I _looove _you, my feathery, white, 3000 Egyptian thread-count, neglected _pillow_!" Rachel sang out, holding the note for an impressively long time. As the final note faded from the small room, she shut the notebook on her lap and placed her hands on top, looking expectantly up at Jesse.

But he could only stare down at the bed as his puckered lips moved from side to side.

"Well?" Rachel eventually asked, failing to keep the excitement out of her voice. When Jesse did not succeed in answering, Rachel cleared her throat. "It's called…_My Neglected Pillow_."

Jesse nodded his heavy head once, still staring down at the bed. For a full minute there was nothing but silence, until Jesse stood and promptly left the room.

Rachel's lips mashed together as she listened to Jesse walking through the apartment. "Did you want to hear _Muffie Can't Raise her Leg_?" Rachel called out and then jumped at the eventual slamming of the front door.

"_My Neglected Pillow_ will _not _be on the first album." Rachel muttered to herself as she opened her notebook and crossed the song off the list of hopefuls just as her cell tweeted. She glanced down at the text from Jesse and pouted.

_We are no longer friends. _

Rachel grumbled to herself as she turned her cell over in her hands. It wasn't _her _fault that she was lacking inspiration. With Quinn away, it was difficult to come up with ideas. Sure, she had some song-topics and names for said songs listed inside her notebook. She just wasn't sure if she was ready to tackle them. Songs with titles like: _Behind the Lies, Growing Through the Pain, and the Thing I Didn't Even Know I Missed. _

Just as Rachel was ready to start on her newest number—_My Ex-Boyfriend, Now Friend, Doesn't Have Any Taste_—her phone chimed again.

She glanced down to see Quinn was calling, and Rachel happily answered, practically breathless with excitement. "Hello, _Quinn_." Rachel purred with a lecherous grin.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Where are you?"

Rachel cocked her head, very confused. "I'm at the apartment, of course. And I thought you were in the middle of a meeting?"

"I am." Quinn panted, obviously walking rather quickly. "I'm meeting with the restaurant investors and contractors and got an urgent text from Jesse saying that you were in trouble and needed serious help. What the hell is he talking about? Are you _sure _you're okay? If you're not, fit a day of the week into a sentence; that's what the FBI does when they're responding to possible kidnapped victims."

Rachel's face exploded with a loving smile as she listened to her wife act very much as Rachel would. "I'm more than fine, Quinn. I think he was just being an ass because I sang him the newest song I wrote and he didn't particularly care for it."

There was a long pause before Quinn hastily spoke to someone on her end of the line before returning back to the call. "What was the song called?" She asked quietly after a moment.

"_My Neglected Pillow_." Rachel mumbled as she picked at the loose curls of paper in the spiral of her notebook.

There was another long pause. "You're over thinking this, Rach. Stop trying to make a song happen. Only write when you're inspired. You don't have to record next week or even this year. Wait until you're satisfied; after all, you have more than enough on your plate as is. I'm sorry I can't talk, there are a room full of people waiting for me and I think I just scared the shit out of them when I raced out of the room when I got Jesse's text. But I'll call you later tonight if I get a chance after dinner with Puck, okay?" Quinn said quickly, clearly about to get off the phone.

"Okay, Quinn don't worry about it; I know you have a lot going on." _With Puck_, Rachel thought bitterly.

"I do, but I'll try. So put away your notebook and sing around the apartment and keep yourself busy. Look, Rach, I really have to go."

"It's okay, I understand, Quinn."

"Okay, I love you and I'll talk to you later." Right before the line went dead, Rachel heard Quinn apologize; presumably to the room full of people she had just ran out on. But Rachel didn't really register that. She couldn't really register anything.

The phone slipped from her fingers and fell onto the bed as she stared, unseeing. When her phone chimed for the third time in less than five minutes, she blankly picked it up and held it to her ear.

"Look, I'm sorry I just took off. But you have to understand that I cannot be friends with someone with no talent. And that song, Rachel Barbra Berry, showed no signs of any talent, whatsoever. But don't worry. I'm coming back and we'll just-we'll just burn that notebook and start fresh. Okay?"

Rachel knew that Jesse was talking to her, but she hadn't heard a word. She just sat there, still frozen.

"Rachel?"

"She told me she loved me." Rachel breathed out, her shaking hand rising to cover her mouth.

There was a long pause. "Quinn? Quinn told you she loved you?"

Rachel could only nod.

"Don't bothering answering; I heard that nod from here and I'll be there in less time than a Celine Dion power note." The line went dead and Rachel was still nodding.

In fact, she was still nodding as Jesse rushed into the room, sweaty, hair astray, and almost as shocked as Rachel.

"Okay, well." He began, swallowing hard and pacing. "How did she say it? What was the context? Did you say it back? You're not crying, so I suppose it wasn't incredibly romantic. Is she coming back? Are you meeting her at the airport for some big, over the top, impractical reunion where you two kiss amongst commuters and Home Land Security? You're still quiet. What happened? Did she say it, and then you sang her your song and she told you she changed her mind? Jesus, Rachel, _say something_!"

Rachel jumped suddenly, only just then realizing Jesse was standing before her. She looked up at him and blinked harshly as he collapsed down on the bed. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she shrugged unsurely. "She-she just…_said it_. Like she says it a thousand times. Just, 'okay, I got to go love you bye.' Like…she just _said it_. _Casually_! Like it was no big deal! Like, how you say goodbye to your aunt or uncle or…"

"Or an ugly person?" Jesse asked with a wince.

"What? No, Jesse! It was just so…so…_casual_!"

"You said that."

"I just-that was the first time she's said it since-since…_forever _and it wasn't special! It wasn't meaningful! She didn't say it over candlelight or while making love or even in a random moment where I've said something so adorable she can't help _but _say it! She just—said it!"

"Did you…say it back?" Jesse asked awkwardly.

"NO!" Rachel screeched back. "She hung up before I could even _process _it, never _mind_ respond accordingly! And this wasn't how it was supposed to be said! It was supposed to be-"

"Blah, blah, blah, romance, blah, blah, blah, like a movie; I know, Rachel." Jesse said with attitude and an eye roll.

Rachel sat up on her knees as she pointed angrily at the boy. "You don't get to be an ass about this, Jesse St. James! I've waited a long time to hear Quinn say those words and mean them!"

"It's just, Rach…" Jesse said with forced calm, trying to hide his irritation. "Don't you think you're being a little…dramatic about this; even for you? I mean, it hasn't exactly been a romcom where the two of you have been concerned."

Rachel's chest puffed as her anger grew. "That's exactly my problem!" She shouted. "I just wanted this _one _thing, you know? Just-just _one _time where Quinn and I get our happy ending! I don't even think she realizes she said it!"

Jesse thought that over for a moment. "Well maybe she did."

"No! There's no way! She would have already called and freaked out or apologized or…or…_something_!"

Jesse heaved a great sigh. "Okay, maybe she doesn't realize she said it. Maybe the feeling is so strong and constant that it just slipped out unconsciously. Is that so bad?"

Rachel looked horrified. "_Yes!_"

"Why? Why is it so bad that she loves you so much she can't help but let it slip?" Jesse said, not bothering to cover up his ire.

"Because, Jesse!"

"Because _why_, Rachel!"

Rachel deflated in that moment and sunk down back against her heels. _Why is it so bad? _

"Because…I wanted it to be perfect." Rachel whispered as she ducked her head.

Jesse sighed again, this time softer, and reached out to take his friend's hand. "It still can be. If she doesn't remember saying it, than it's like it didn't really happen. Now you can say it first. Now you can make it special for her."

It was Rachel's turn to sigh. "Yeah. Maybe."

"No, not maybe, Rachel. Perhaps you can't see it, but what you and Quinn have is…is…" Rachel looked up to watch as Jesse searched for the right word. "Epic. There, I said it. Just don't tell Quinn. It's epic, Rachel. How you are together, how you've grown. And I think it's codswallop that you can't see it and you're dragging your feet like this. Never mind how you've been sulking around for the last few days like your lover just went off to war!"

"It's not codswallop." Rachel muttered.

"Yes it is! It's codswallop! Just call her back and talk to her."

Rachel was shaking her head. "She's in a meeting; she's busy."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "She's busy and I have to be at the theatre in a few hours and-"

"You know what, fine, Rach. Fine. And I take it back; your love isn't epic and you haven't grown at all!"

Rachel gasped. "You take that back! It is too epic, Jesse, and I _have _grown!" She responded indignantly.

Jesse got to his feet and crossed his arms defiantly. "No, you've done worse; you've _regressed_! The Rachel Berry I knew wouldn't stop at anything for love!"

Rachel got to her feet as well, toe to toe with her friend. "Well you're right about that, Jesse St. James, the Rachel Berry you knew is long gone! I've had my heart ripped out and broken and shattered so many times maybe I don't know _how _to do this love crap anymore! Maybe I _can't_! So stop worrying about my love life and start worrying about your own!"

"Fine, I will!" Jesse shouted back, hurt by the dig. He promptly turned and marched out of the room.

"And don't bother coming to my show tomorrow!"

"I won't!" Jesse yelled back.

"And don't for a _second _think you're singing on my future double platinum album!"

Jesse laughed manically from the living room. "With songs like _My Neglected Pillow_, I wouldn't be caught _dead _singing on that album. Platinum my ass!"

Rachel scoffed. "Just for that, you're out of my Tony acceptance speech, St. James!"

"Fine!" Came thundering back before he slammed the front door closed, leaving Rachel to stew.

She huffed loudly and collapsed down onto her bed, positively steaming.

_Jesse St. James is dead to me!_

_What an ass! _

_Can't he understand what I'm going through?_

_And to say _My Neglected Pillow_ is bad. The nerve of him!_

_I mean, I'm going through _turmoil_! The future of my relationship is at a precipice and he _yells _at me!_

_She said it so casually! _

_She threw away our first real I love you! _

_Well…at least she said it. _

…

_Don't scoff at me!_

_How can you be so caviler?_

_Because at least she said it. At least she loves us!_

…

_What, you suddenly don't think she does? Are you crazy?_

_I'm starting to think I am. _

_Yes, me too! _What _is your problem? And stop whining! _

_I'm sorry! It's just…everything is so up in the air! What if she goes to L.A. to work at Conduit? This distance is killing me and every time I've talked to her this week she's acted as though it's not bothering her!_

_She assures you regularly it _is.

_But she's dealing! She's dealing way better than needy Rachel Berry. I'm always so _needy_! I'm living my dream life and it's _still _not good enough! I'm _still _waiting to be emotionally crushed! I can only think of the _bad. _Shelby. Losing Quinn. How bad high school was. Losing my friends. Jesse rejecting me. Being humiliated by Finn. Quinn admitting she lied in the beginning. Waiting for my heart to get crushed! My wife just told me she loves me and I'm _still _acting like a miserable little girl! What is _wrong _with me?_

But no reply came. Rachel was only left with her own terrified voice and tumultuous thoughts.

She didn't sleep at all that night.


	20. Chapter 20 Tentative Title

_I'll start with saying Happy New Year! Now I'll move onto apologizing for taking so long to write this. It was my Everest! It's about as long (big?) as Mt. Everest, too. Sorry to those who think it's too long, I just found myself not wanting to say goodbye to these characters and this story. I had to really _end_ it, ya know? _

_Anyway, thank you so much for sticking with this story despite the long time in between updates. Thank you for your support and kind words. It was extremely overwhelming in the best way possible. Thank you to yourkat for editing this and being patient with me; you're my sweetpea ; ]. I hope you enjoy it and it was worth the wait. Thank you again; I've really appreciated taking this ride with you. _

Chapter Twenty: Tentative Title

Rachel Berry flailed around in her bed, waving her arms madly, in an attempt to silence the loud, obnoxious noise that was disturbing her sleep. She had only dropped off a scant hour before, around two o'clock, and felt as though the jarring racket was coming from inside her head and not from her bedside table.

Basically still asleep, Rachel's hand wrapped around her vibrating, noisy phone and placed it beside her ear. "Rachel Be-" That's all she got out before she was asleep once again.

"Mrs. Berry?" The voice on the other line asked. "Mrs. Berry?!" Louder still.

Rachel's eyes wrenched open in alarm. "Yes? What? How may I be of service?" She slurred, completely out of it.

The man on the other line chuckled: he loved his job. "Mrs. Berry? Is that you?"

"Mrs. Fabray." She mumbled, nuzzling into her pillow and ready to be asleep again.

"This is Mrs. Fabray? Mrs. _Quinn_ Fabray?" He asked, truly puzzled; he was almost positive he was speaking to Rachel Berry—her voice was quite distinctive.

"No, Rachel this is." She said through a deep yawn before smacking her lips thoroughly, eyes closed.

The man grinned as he shook his head. "Rachel Berry, my name is Jamal, and I'm calling on behalf of the American Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, ma'am_._"

"Lovely, lovely." Rachel murmured, her eyes closed and almost entirely checked out of the conversation.

"Yes it is, ma'am." He chuckled softly. "Mrs. Berry, I want to congratulate-"

"Mrs. Fabray." Rachel responded, close to sleep once again.

"I'm sorry, ma'am?"

"My name Fabray." She grunted back, slightly disgruntled in her half-asleep state.

"Yes. Um. I apologize, Mrs. Fabray. It's just that, I have you here under Berry, not Fabray."

"Berry's my stage name."

"_Oh_." Jamal was fairly certain that his audience was on her way to dreamland soon. "Mrs. Fabray, is the _other_ Mrs. Fabray there? If so, could I please speak to her?" Jamal asked, double checking that he was allowed to deliver this particular news to Rachel's wife. Since Quinn Fabray was Rachel's wife and representation, he was cleared to do so.

Rachel sighed loudly, very annoyed: she was _sleepy_! "Quinn's in Lima. With Mercedes. Or Santana and Brittany. Or Noah. I don't know. Would you like to leave a message?" She asked through a yawn.

Jamal was starting to hate his job a little. "No…uh, Mrs. Fabray…I just wanted to congratulate you on behalf of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for your selection of merit for distinctive achievement in the industry, and nominate you officially for the eighty-seventh Academy Awards as Best Actress in a leading role for _Which of You, I Love_."

There was a long silence on the other end, and Jamal held his breath as he waited for the shrieks of excitement. They didn't come.

The sound of Rachel's snores filled the line and Jamal frowned. "_Mrs. Fabray_!" He shouted loudly, positive that people outside his small office had heard him and were laughing.

Rachel jerked awake. "What? What's going on?" She mumbled, her messy bed-hair curtaining her face. She brushed it away and inhaled harshly to wake up. She could hear yelling from her phone and quickly picked it up from her pillow and placed it to her ear. "Hello?!"

"Oh thank God! Mrs. Fabray-"

"No, this is Mrs. Berry." Rachel corrected, still smoothing her hair as she stared down at her phone at the unknown number before placing it back next to her ear. "Quinn is out of town; may I take a message?" She asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Jamal sighed in relief and frustration—thankful that Rachel seemed to be finally with it, but frustrated that she had yet to catch on. "No, Mrs. Berry, I wish to speak with _you_. My name is Jamal from the-"

"Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences!" Rachel shrieked clambering to sit up properly in bed. She grabbed her neglected pillow/poor Quinn substitute, and held it to her bare chest as her wide eyes stared unseeing across the dark room.

She had fallen asleep. She had promised Quinn, Jesse, her fathers, and everyone from Matt's production team she would _not _fall asleep just in case this call came. When she had received the news about her Golden Globe nomination a week prior, everyone assured her the Academy would be calling next. Secretly, Rachel tried to put it at of her mind. The Tony and Golden Globe nominations were enough for one year. To receive an Oscar nomination _on top_ of that would truly mean that Rachel Berry had sold her soul and forgotten about it or something. She'd been very fortunate already.

And, sure, when she got the call that she had been nominated for a Golden Globe she was _thrilled_! But they practically _gave_ those things away to whomever was walking by on the street. Academy Awards, on the other hand…This was why she needed Quinn next to her, not anywhere else—she needed her alarm-wife! The moment should be crystal clear, not a fuzzy memory!

Jamal chuckled. "Yes, Mrs. Berry. I've called to congratulate you on behalf of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences for your selection of merit for distinctive achievement in the industry, and nominate you officially for the eighty-seventh Academy Awards as Best Actress in a leading role for _Which of You, I Love_." Jamal repeated, reading off the typed, prewritten words he was required to recite.

Rachel slapped her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming loudly as she quickly hopped to her feet and began jumping up and down on the bed, quite naked. "Oh my, God, oh my, God, oh my, _God_!" Jamal laughed loudly on the other line, _finally _getting the reaction he wanted.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Berry. Officially, the nominees for Best Actress will be announced later on today …" Rachel promptly stopped jumping as she stood frozen on her bed. "…so you'll see the official press conference-"

"Wait, wait, wait! WHAT?!" Rachel shrieked, suddenly wide awake and _very _anxious.

"The press conference will-"

Rachel waved him away. "No, no, no! Did you say best _lead _actress?!"

Jamal frowned as he double-checked his notes. "Yes, Mrs. Berry, ma'am. Lead actress."

"No, no, no, no, no, _no_! _Supporting role_! _Not _lead. _Supporting_! I'm the _supporting _actress!"

Jamal paused and spoke very slowly. "No, ma'am. Your costars were placed as supporting, you're the lead."

Rachel was shaking her head hard left and right. "No, no, no, no, no, _no_! My part was small. Miniscule, even! _Supporting_!"

"I don't know what to say-"

"I was just nominated for a Golden Globe and _that _was for Best Supporting Actress! _Supporting_!"

Jamal's brow furrowed. "That sometimes happens, ma'am and-"

"_Twice_! It's only happened _twice_! Most recently for Kate Winslet's 2008 performance in _The Reader_! There's some mistake! I shouldn't be allowed to be nominated for Best Actress!"

Jamal was nonplussed. "Ma'am…you're the title actress, correct?"

"What? Um…" Rachel was shaking her head again. "Well I _suppose _that I'm the _you _in which the title speaks, but _technically, _there are three different actresses all playing the _you_ in the which of you!"

Jamal had no idea what she had just said since he hadn't seen the movie yet, but he did know that his phone call should have been over by now. "Look, Mrs. Berry, I'm just the messenger. I'm sure your wife could shed some light-"

"Quinn!" Rachel jump, slapping her hand over her forehead. "I have to call Quinn! She can clear _this entire_ thing up! You'll be receiving a call from my wife and she'll set you straight." Rachel nodded firmly.

Later, Jamal would wonder for quite some time why he said what he was about to say: it was only going to lead to further hassle. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's nothing to clear up. And I'm sure Mrs. Fabray was the one who submitted you for the lead actress seeing as she was credited as one of the producers for the film."

"But, Quinn fixes everything!" Rachel declared, snapping her hand to her waist as she stood atop her bed, feeling as though the matter was closed because she had said her wife's name.

Jamal was shaking his head again. "Mrs. Berry, the nominations are closed. The ballot is closed. Voting is closed. There is nothing to change."

Rachel gasped. "But. _Quinn_!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Berry. There's really nothing that I can…"

A thought occurred to Rachel, her heart hammering, as Jamal babbled on. "Who else is nominated?!"

"_Um_…"

"Who else is nominated?!" Rachel repeated, firmer still.

On the other line, Jamal's mouth opened and closed anxiously. He was told that some nominees often asked the question, and you were clearly prohibited from revealing the information.

"Oh, come on, Jamal, you can tell me. It's just us here." Rachel said, somewhat hysterically, but trying to sound sweet, flirty even. Mostly she just sounded hysterical: she had reason to be.

Jamal looked around his small office and got up from his desk to peek out between the Venetian blinds. No one was around.

"I really can't tell you that, Mrs. Berry." He whispered.

Rachel smelled weakness.

"Look, Jamal, you've been absolutely so kind to me. Patient, sweet, understanding—all I need is this teensy weensy little favor from you. And someone of your _obvious _power can give me the knowledge I seek."

Jamal felt himself blush slightly as he double-checked that the coast was clear. "I'm really not supposed to…"

"Jamal," Rachel began, one hand clutching her phone tightly to her ear while the other gripped her neglected pillow/poor Quinn substitute against her naked body as she paced, back and forth, on top of the short distance of the bed. "You could very well save me from a great deal of distress if you would just tell me the other Best Actress nominees."

He gulped loudly as he hurried back to his desk. Technically, he wasn't even supposed to know the other nominees. Everyone was given a name, phone number, typewritten monologue, category, name of film, and to whom the information was allowed to be released. But Jamal and the other people in charge of calling up the nominees had talked amongst one another. They were all locked in the small office without their cell phones until the news was to be broken later that day. It didn't stop them from passing notes in the caf, however.

He was weakening: Jamal had seen _A Date a Month_. He took his long-time girlfriend to the film, expecting to be bored senseless. He had _not _been bored. He may have teared up at the ending…

…And again when he watched Rachel and Quinn's wedding special…Really, what would be the harm? The nominations were going to be revealed only later that day…

Jamal cupped his hand over the phone and whispered, "Meryl, Mirren, Winslet, and Dench; that's all I can say."

Rachel threw back her head and laughed loudly in relief before collapsing down on her bed. "Jamal, you are a _prince_ amongst men; thank you!"

"Uh…sure. Um…good luck."

"I don't need luck, Jamal: I have the four murderesses of the Academy Awards to keep me safe. Thank you _so _much, and have a pleasant day." Jamal stared blankly at his phone, completely confused. For the first time ever, if his training taught him anything, a nominee was displeased that they were up for the coveted award. He couldn't understand why Rachel Berry seemed so anxious about her leading lady nomination, and was actually _relieved _that she was up against, perhaps, the stiffest competition the Academy Awards has or had ever seen.

"_Actresses_." Jamal muttered to himself before getting up to stretch.

Rachel ended the call and flopped back on her pillow feeling immensely better as she nuzzled into her neglected pillow/poor Quinn substitute and yawned loudly. There was absolutely _no _way that Rachel would beat out any one of those ladies for the Oscar.

And she couldn't be happier about it.

X

Hiram Berry was swaying his hips along to the oldies hit blaring around the kitchen on the radio while his daughter-in-law manned the stove and sang. Behind him, Leroy was doing his own dancing as he set the kitchen table. Hiram, however, couldn't help but notice, as he swiveled his hips, that Quinn was religiously checking her cell phone while she cooked their breakfast in between choruses of _You Can't Hurry Love. _And although she hit every note and never went sharp, Hiram saw the worry between her smiles.

"How do you manage to get your hash browns so crisp, Quinn sweetie?" Hiram asked over her shoulder, ignoring Leroy's loud singing as he continued to dance around the kitchen table.

Quinn smirked and quirked her eyebrow as she looked up at him. "You're not going to distract me. And I will smack your fingers with my spatula if I see any reaching!" She threatened lightheartedly, holding the spatula up close to the man's face with a playful smile.

Hiram threw his hands up. "No reaching, sure, sure, wouldn't dream of it. Anything you say: you're the chef!"

With her gaze fixed on him, however, it was easy for Leroy to slink up and snatch some of the breakfast burrito that was cooking in another frying pan. Quinn caught the action out of the corner of her eye and twisted to face her other father-in-law to shoot him a teasing glare. Leroy's innocent smile was very reminiscent of Rachel's.

"_Hey_, _hey_, _hey_!" Quinn scolded, swatting her spatula when Hiram's hand made a dive for the hash browns. "That's it, out of my kitchen, _go_!" She commanded, pointing her spatula at them as they tried to appear guiltless. Instead of leaving, both men took a seat at the table and waited to be served.

"Hear from Rachel yet?" Hiram asked, lounging back in his chair as he crossed his legs dramatically. Quinn came to realize these men did everything dramatically. In comparison, Rachel was downright modest.

Quinn's shoulders drooped as she flipped a burrito. "No. And I'm worried."

Hiram and Leroy traded disappointed looks. They hadn't heard from her either. The calls for the Academy Award nominations went out the previous evening—or wee hours of the morning, really. If they hadn't heard from Rachel, it must mean she didn't receive any good news.

It was why Quinn was so desperate to hear from her wife. She had stayed up most of the night waiting for Rachel to call shrieking her excitement. Or even a call early in the morning to hear from a sad Rachel that she _hadn't _heard from the Academy. But nothing.

She had texted and phoned Rachel repeatedly. Everything went unanswered or to voicemail. "Well, it could have been stiff competition this year." Leroy sighed dramatically, almost as though it was all happening to him. "It was a lot to hope for that we'd receive a nomination so early in our career." His voice broke, and Quinn looked over her shoulder as she turned off the stove to see tears in his eyes and Hiram consoling him.

"Next movie." Hiram told his husband, rubbing his back.

"But we worked so _hard_!" Leroy stressed, accepting the napkin Quinn handed him after she set the food out onto the table and took a seat at his side.

Quinn smiled sympathetically. "Rachel has a very long career ahead of her, Lee, she'll get her Oscar. I promise."

"Yes!" Hiram said as he slapped the table and pushed up his glasses. "And after breakfast we'll just have to watch the press conference to see what hacks were nominated instead of our girl. We'll rip them to shreds!"

"That does sound like fun." Leroy mumbled as he brushed away his tears.

After breakfast and cleanup, the three moved into the living room to sit in front of the television to watch the award announcements. Quinn clutched her phone tightly in her hands, leaning forward on the couch between her fathers-in-law as other category nominations were read aloud.

She just wanted to hear Rachel's voice. After her meeting with the restaurant investors and dinner with Puck the previous evening, she had called Rachel in hopes that she was still awake—unaware that she had let slip that she loved Rachel over their quick phone call, and unaware that her wife was reeling from the effects. After trying several times, Quinn conceded and tried to go to sleep. Her work in Lima was wrapping up, and she couldn't wait to be home again.

Missing Rachel was like a constant ache. She was getting crabbier as the days passed. Whether it was because she just wanted to be around her wife, or was getting rather horny, Quinn didn't know. But she was sick of Lima. She missed New York; even that unidentifiable smell that permeated the city. She was ready to be home.

"_And the nominations for Best Actress…" _

"This is it, this is it!" Leroy said as he bounced next to Quinn. He scoffed. "Meryl _again_!" He complained, folding his arms across his chest with a look of disdain on his face.

"You love Meryl Streep, though." Quinn mumbled, feeling her heart sink. Even though she didn't receive a phone call from Rachel, a tiny sliver of hope resided in her that perhaps, maybe, Rachel was just still asleep at home and _that's _why she hadn't yet called Quinn. Or maybe she slept through the phone call from the Academy. Or maybe her voice was too hoarse from screaming her excitement after getting her nomination so she was resting it so she couldn't call…and her fingers were broken so she couldn't text…

"Well, I _don't_ love her anymore!" Leroy declared haughtily. "What a _bitch_." He huffed as the actress' picture was shown on the screen.

The next nominee was announced and, this time, Hiram scoffed. "I always thought Helen Mirren was a poor man's Judy Dench!"

"Are you freaking _kidding me_?!" Quinn whined as Judy Dench was announced as the third nominee.

"They're all washed-up actresses!" Hiram casually commented as he gestured at the screen before placing his hand back on his cheek. "They never choose anyone young these days."

"…_Kate Winslet, for her role in _Blind Causalities_; a true story about a sight-impaired lesbian who changed the lives of a South African village…"_

"Who would even see that movie?!" Quinn seethed.

"This is horsepoo!" Leroy dismissed regally and got to his feet to distract himself. Quinn and Hiram's eyes stayed glued to the TV miserably as Leroy retreated to the kitchen.

"_And Rachel Berry, for her role in _Which of You, I Love; _the story of…" _But the words were drowned out by the Berry men and Quinn's screams. As Hiram and Quinn jumped to their feet, stunned, Leroy ran back in the room, hopping excitedly up and down as they all traded wide-eyed stares and deafening shrieks before leaping into each other's arms to hug their exhilaration.

As the two presenters on screen discussed the nominees, all three of them turned to stare, still shocked. Rachel's picture was just below Helen Mirren's and next to Kate Winslet's. They were beaming as they looked on, not even able to comprehend what was being said.

"My little girl's an Academy Award Nominee!" Leroy cried out.

"A Tony, Golden Globe, _and _Academy Award Nominee!" Hiram rejoined.

"That Tony is _hers_!" Quinn said fiercely. Knowing, without a doubt, that Rachel worked her ass off on that stage each and every time, night after night.

Leroy nodded. "And so is that Golden Globe and Osss-ooohhhh." Then it sunk in. Slowly, all three of them moved backwards, eyes still on the screen, and collapsed onto the couch. Leroy chewed on his thumbnail as he stared at the pictures of the four celebrated actresses that surrounded his daughter. On the other side of Quinn, Hiram's hand cupped his cheek and shook his head as his wide eyes soaked in the bleak outlook. Quinn was biting her lower lip as her cell phone was quickly being spun in between her hands.

"Well…she could always pull-off an upset." Hiram eventually got out in a monotone voice, eyes still trained on the TV.

"If anyone could do it, Rachel could." Quinn said passionately.

"Who are we kidding…she's screwed!" Leroy pouted and huffed back against the couch.

"Maybe that's why she didn't call me. Maybe she found out who else was nominated and was too depressed?" Quinn said as the announcers began reading off the Best Actor nominations.

"Perhaps we should call her again?" Leroy said, already wiping tears away from his eyes.

Without a word, Quinn got off the couch and placed her cell to her ear. It had been Conduit Studio's idea to place Rachel in the Best Actress category for the Oscars, and Best Supporting for the Golden Globes. At the time, Quinn agreed; Barbra Streisand's first Academy Award had been for Best Actress, and Quinn thought Rachel would be excited if hers was as well. She wanted it to be a surprise for Rachel. Conduit made a lot of good points about statistics and chances of winning a Golden Globe versus Academy Award and other things Quinn didn't bother listening to. Now, however, after seeing the stiff competition Rachel would face, Quinn wasn't so sure. As Rachel's phone went to voicemail, Quinn rolled her eyes at herself, feeling slightly guilty that she was doubting her wife's chances.

"Rach, sweetie, I really want to hear your voice, okay?" Quinn told the voicemail quietly so her fathers-in-law couldn't hear. "I just heard you were nominated! I'm _so _proud of you! I _know _you're going to win. Those four other unknowns are _nothing _compared to you." She chuckled, rolling her eyes again at her corny lie. "_Please, please _call me back? Okay, superstar? I-I just want to hear your voice."

Hundreds of miles away, Rachel Berry clicked off her cell phone—not bothering, or wanting to delete Quinn's voicemail—and tossed it on the bed beside her as she stared up at the ceiling. Her first instinct was to call Quinn and tell her she wasn't worried about the Oscars. That she was barely thinking about them. That she just missed Quinn.

Her next instinct was to ring up Jesse and demand he come over at once to help sort out everything racing through her head. But instead, Rachel lifted her notebook up and brought it close to her nose as she inspected the newest song she had written earlier that morning: _Fear versus Happiness_.

Rachel couldn't really afford to lie about in bed. With the news of the Academy Award Nominees out now, _Wink and a Nod _would have sold out shows all weekend. She was sure her cast mates would be throwing her a party. She'd want to be at the theatre early to prepare for the chaos.

Instead, Rachel rolled over onto her stomach and flipped through her notebook. Titles like: _Behind the Lies—_a song about falling in love when it starts with a lie—_Growing Through the Pain_—Rachel's story of all the torment she went through during her youth and high school, and coming out on the other end—_The Thing I Didn't Even Know I Missed_—a song dedicated to Shelby—and _The_ _Will to Risk it All_—an unfinished song that had smudges and tear marks on the page.

She got to a fresh page and her pen hovered over a blue line as she thought. It wasn't fair to Quinn that she was shutting her out. She had received each phone call and text message her wife sent her over the last ten hours, but she wasn't ready to talk. She didn't want to speak to Quinn without being able to tell her exactly what she was thinking. To address Quinn's hasty _I love you_ and be able to respond accordingly.

So Rachel wrote. She wrote and wrote and wrote some more. Sometimes it was just freehand: a stream of consciousness that had no rhyme or reason except to clear Rachel's head. Other times, Rachel was inspired by a certain memory; a fight in high school, a particular day in New York when Quinn looked breathtaking, those five days they didn't see one another after the truth came out…

Rachel wrote feverishly as her bent legs swung in the air. Ink from the pen coated her fingers, but still Rachel wrote. She giggled as memories came to mind of her tempting Quinn, and began writing a particularly naughty song entitled: _In Just a Towel. _

When the time came to get to the theatre, Rachel didn't hesitate to pack her notebook along with everything else she'd need for her first show. In between shows, Rachel had every intention of writing some more; it was becoming very therapeutic. She would text Quinn when she got to the theatre, explaining to her wife that she was fine, just needing some alone time to think. She wouldn't lie. Not anymore. Rachel just wasn't ready for the complete truth either.

Because, at the end of the day, it wasn't _just _fear stopping Rachel. It wasn't the fact that she'd been hurt so many times, she realized. It went beyond that. It had hit her very hard and made her set her pen down and push her notebook aside.

The problem, the _real _problem, was that she realized that Quinn Fabray was too good for her. And Rachel didn't have the faintest idea on how to change that.

X

Hours later, Quinn threw her purse on the table and ignored the way the full glass of rich Merlot swayed on top of the pristine tablecloth. "Macallan, neat." She barked at the waiter at her side, not bothering to address him or her dinner companion as she ripped off her blazer and flung it on the back of her chair before taking a seat.

Without looking at Puck, she pried the wine glass from his hands and drank deeply, eyes on the ceiling as she chugged, ignoring Puck's surprised and slightly annoyed demeanor.

After swallowing the last sip, Quinn jerked the glass away from her lips and breathed heavily. "Now, what's _this _meeting about?" She asked, aggravated, as she scanned the menu of the fancy restaurant, unsure as to why she was summoned away from her brooding for this unscheduled dinner. They had seen each other just the night before, so Quinn felt little joy over seeing Puck yet again when she could be religiously staring at her cell phone, willing Rachel to call.

Puck reached over the table to retrieve his empty wine glass, tilted it upside down to watch the lone burgundy drop slowly slide to the rim, and then placed it down next to his plate as he indicated to the nearest waiter he needed a refill. He watched her for a moment as she angrily flipped a menu page, brows inverted and eyes narrowed in concentration. It hit him so suddenly that he slept with this girl once. Not Quinn, but the girl she was currently acting like.

"What's yourproblem?" He asked darkly, picking up his own menu to remind himself what he was getting. Mostly he was hoping it would become a barrier of sorts in case Quinn threw something at him.

Quinn scoffed down at her menu and ripped over another page. "This is, what, the _fourth _meeting this week for your freaking restaurant? If I'd known I'd be doing virtually _everything_, I wouldn't have bothered giving you the goddamn investment!" Quinn hissed, turning over another page with ire.

Puck smiled up at the waitress who was refilling his wineglass, aware that the woman was pouring faster now to get away from Quinn and her bad mood. She scurried away just in time for their waiter to arrive with Quinn's scotch, eyebrows to his hairline as he watched the waitress quickly escape, and set down the tumbler before hightailing it out of there as well.

"They're going to spit in your food, you know." Puck said around the lip of his glass, appraising the way she dismissed his comment with an eye roll and a huff. She practically tossed her menu down before tearing her teeth into a dinner roll and ripping away. "Well, you're in a pleasant mood."

She scoffed again, eyes on him this time. "Cut the crap, Puck; _why _are we here? I thought the restaurant was finefor a few months."

Instead of answering, he again watched her scan the restaurant, looking surly and bad-tempered. It wafted off of her, and he had no idea what he had done. Their dinner the previous night had been nice. They had a quick bite to eat with another investor and happily discussed _Puck's Bar-Be-Que _with enthusiasm. What had happened in the last twenty-four hours that had made High School Quinn appear?

"Horny, huh?"

For a third time, Quinn scoffed as her hazel eyes snapped to his, her mouth open in indignation. This scoff, however, was louder and downright appalled much like her glare. But Puck refused to back down. Quinn would be leaving town soon, and he didn't want to part on bad terms.

"You are as crass and immature as you were in high school, _Puck_, and I'm so sick of-"

"Whatever, you miss Rachel and you're horny. Just say it, Fabray, and quit acting like such a bitch."

The glare only got worse. Quinn leaned forward over the table menacingly, her eyes slits. "I've put up with _a lot _of _shit _from you over the years, _Puckerman_, and I've put it all aside because I was willing to believe that you've changed. I put it aside for Rachel, and _her_, and because I made some mistakes, too. But I'm busting my _ass _for you and I'm suddenly wondering why the hell I would do that for someone who-"

"You don't have to tell me how much it sucks going without." Puck interrupted casually, leaning back in his chair to appear as though Quinn wasn't scaring the hell out of him. "I used to date this girl who lived in Cincinnati, and we could only get together every other weekend 'cause of her job. You just miss your wife; I get it." He shrugged, looking around the restaurant and not at Quinn's hardened stare.

But Quinn wouldn't relent. She _wanted _to be in a bad mood. _Wanted _to take it out on someone. Because the person Quinn _really _wanted to take her mad mood out on was currently not returning her phone calls.

She had received a text from Rachel earlier that day once she got to the theatre. It simply said that she was fine, not worried about the Oscars, and she just needed time to think. That was most unlike Rachel. Something was off. Something was _really _off.

Rachel didn't take time to think. She thought out loud and with an audience. And what, exactly, did she need to think about? Why wasn't she chatting Quinn's ear off as she went over Academy Award statistics on first-time nominees, reading the reviews on the other celebrated actresses' films and the likelihood they'd win over Rachel, a screen-per-screen recap on her performance in _Which of You, I Love_ and exactly _why _Rachel would be best suited to win the award?

Just what the _hell _was Rachel "Thinking about"?!

"Let's just order our damn food." Quinn grunted as she took a big swallow her scotch and gestured over to the waiter to return. He did so…tentatively.

Puck continued to watch Quinn's bad mood progress. His eyebrows rose when she ordered another scotch, but remained quiet until the waiter left, scared for both his _and _the wait staffs' lives if he mentioned anything with spectators present.

As she sucked back her straight scotch, he sipped his wine. "Since when do you drink that shit? I thought New York made you buck the WASP lifestyle."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I guess it's genetic." He mumbled as he glanced around the room. His gaze jerked back to Quinn at the sound of her loudly slamming her tumbler down.

"Do _not_. Compare me to _them_." She seethed, staring him down.

Puck was over this. "Will you cut the shit and tell me what the hell is wrong with you?

The waiter was back with their food, and she and Puck dropped into silence as several waiters served them. The soft chatter around the room filled the void along with the hypnotizing sounds of forks and knives scraping ceramic plates.

Quinn chewed her lip. She knew she was being a raging bitch. She had effectively terrified the wait staff, alienated Puck, and was pretty sure the two women a table over were gossiping about her—if their sideways glances were any indication.

She just couldn't understand it. Why was Rachel suddenly acting as though Quinn was a first-date-gone-bad and ignoring her phone calls until she caught a clue? Up until yesterday, Rachel was behaving like an adorable, needy mess, and Quinn wanted that back. She _loved _that. She _needed _that. The distance was so hard, and she was racking her brain over what Rachel could need space for. They _had _space. _Hundreds of miles of space! _

Was it because, days earlier, Quinn didn't want to get out of Rachel's comfortable, childhood bed to retrieve her laptop so they could have Skype sex? Quinn was pretty sure the phone sex they had that night was above par, and Rachel hadn't seemedangry at the time, completely understanding that Quinn was too tired to go all out. Could that be it?

Was it because Quinn had made a rather excitable find antiquing with the Berry men, and Rachel was feeling left out? Couldit be the fact that she was bummed about the intimidating company she was currently keeping in her Oscar nomination and felt like her thunder was being stolen? Mad that Quinn placed her in the Best Actress category instead of Best Supporting?

Just trying to come up with excuses for Rachel was exhausting her and making her even crankier. She felt like they should be passed this kind of stuff. Rachel should be at the point where she was sharingwith Quinn, not cutting her out. The half-assed text she received earlier wouldn't cut it.

Quinn tossed back the rest of her scotch and quickly ordered another. "You haven't even eaten yet." Puck pointed out with a disapproving frown.

Quinn rolled her shoulders and neck, eyes closed as she answered. "Food is for the weak."

Puck frowned harder. "Food is for the awesome. Now eat that weird crap you ordered and tell me what the hell is wrong with you."

She sighed. "It's not weird crap, it's garlic Udon noodle stir-fry with tofu, you cultureless Neanderthal."

Puck grinned, pleased that she made the comment without her earlier malice. Maybe the scotch was helping. "Yeah, whatever. It costs enough, so eat it." He answered before taking his own advice.

"I just don't understand it." Quinn began, skating a finger around the lip of her fresh scotch. "I mean, usually when she's upset about something, she picks fights. Like, when we first started really falling for each other, she used to start stuff because she was frustrated with how perfect I was acting." Quinn breathed out as she watched the amber-colored scotch swirl around the glass, recalling their many heated arguments that seemed as though they were placeholders for sex. "Rachel only gets really quiet when she's seriously hurt. And I haven't done anything to hurt her, Puck, I haven't!"

Puck remained quietly sympathetic as he watched her take another sip of scotch: Obviously it was the reason she was now opening up. He could only imagine what it was like being married to Rachel Berry.

"And if someone _else _hurt her, she would talk to me about it. Unless they made her feel as though she wasn't good enough. And the only way she would feel _that_," Quinn continued to contemplate, speaking out loud although she had already forgotten about Puck's presence, "is if someone made her feel as though she weren't good enough for _me_. Which is ridiculous, because the latest issue of _Black Curtain, _the one she's on the cover of, is the highest selling issue, and she looks unbelievably gorgeous in every single picture. Like, seriously _sexy_." Quinn stressed as her eyes slid closed and the photos of Rachel flipped behind her eyelids.

Puck nodded firmly, agreeing one-hundred percent.

"Never mind the fact that she is nominated for a Tony, Golden Globe, and an Oscar, so she can't doubt her talent. And she's doing these really adorable things lately," Quinn said, cocking her head to the side as she softly smiled, eyes fluttering open. "Learning to cook and cleaning up after herself. And I mean even more than she has been. She already does all the laundry because she knows how much I hate laundry rooms. And she put on this really hot dress and was all supportive for my big meeting at Conduit, acting like this trophy wife, which, can I just say, made me hotter than _anything_."

Puck's eyes widened as he learned forward smirking: Quinn neversaid stuff like that, so she must be drunk.

"I didn't even knowthat I would like that. Maybe some things just _are _genetic. Without meaning to, I somehow became a 1950's husband and like having a little woman to take care of." Quinn smirked lecherously before frowning. "But I kind of like being a 1950's housewife, too. I like taking care of her. And she likes taking care of me." The smirk was back. "When I get home, she's going to make me a dinner of my choice while wearing an apron…and _only _an apron."

"_Nice_."

"Oh, I_ know_." Quinn said, eyes finally up on Puck's. "Can you imagine those legs in only an apron? That ass?" Puck smirked. "Wait…" Quinn frowned. "Stop imagining!"

"Sorry, Q, you started it."

Quinn's glare was back in full-swing. "I will _destroy_ you, Puckerman!"

Puck was quick to hold up his hands as his eyes scanned the restaurant—a few people were looking in their direction. "Q, _chill_. I was only kidding, and you should know that by now: I toldyou about my crush." He mumbled, looking down at the table as his cheeks turned red.

Quinn waved her hand flippantly as she draped an arm over the back of her chair and reclined slightly as her scotch swayed in its tumbler. "Rachel trumps Tina." She dismissed before taking another gulp of scotch.

Puck's head jerked side to side as though he was afraid someone had overheard Quinn. "_Dude_!"

"What?" Quinn spit out unapologetically. "Rachel could kick Tina's ass in _anything_, Puck, _anything_."

"So not true." Puck defended.

"Tina didn't seem all that impressed with the exchange." She drawled out, now bored with the proceedings. She remembered Rachel recapping what Tina had said just the previous week when Tina had been in New York. Rachel had told Quinn that Tina hadn't been too excited about her and Puck's night together.

Puck gasped as his face reddened with anger and embarrassment. "She _said _that?!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "In so many words."

Puck continued to gape at her. "I-I-I was _nervous_, okay! Puckzilla is a _stud_!" Quinn only shrugged. "Im'a change her mind, Q."

"That's lovely." Quinn breathed out, eyes quickly closing in exasperation and she ran her fingers through her long hair. "Why isn't she calling me?!" Quinn said through a clenched jaw, checking her cell yet again in the hope that Rachel had called.

"I'll rock her world."

"So happy for you."

"I got with every chick _in_ that choir room and saved the best for last." Puck nodded firmly.

"You mean you screwed up with the second best—_me_—by knocking her up and were too stupid to keep the best. But thank you for that: Rachel is extraordinary." Quinn smiled serenely, hoping to rile Puck up further.

"You're being really mean tonight." Puck pouted and crossed his arms.

"I absolutely love how childish every boy in my life is. Please, keep pouting, I'm sure Tina will rush in here at any moment and swoon."

"At least Tina returns my calls!"

Quinn gasped loudly and set her scotch down on the table as she rounded on him. "At least my first time with Rachel was actually _good_—_amazing _even. Perfect!"

Puck's face exploded bright red. "Well no one is talking shit about me! The whole restaurant thinks you're a colossal _bitch_, and they aren't wrong!"

Without answering, Quinn jumped to her feet, causing her chair to fall over. Her face was set in anger, ignoring the waiter who was currently picking her chair back up, and threw her napkin onto the table as she grabbed her cell phone and purse to hurry off towards the restrooms.

She pushed call on her phone without even realizing she had selected the number, and paced just outside the bathrooms as she waited for the girl on the other end of the line to pick up.

In New York, Rachel sat on the living room floor as she stared down at the German Shepard puppy at her feet, _Fiddler on the Roof _playing softly on the TV in the background and her opened notebook on the table before her.

"See, _you _like _My Neglected Pillow_, Rufus, I don't see what Jesse's problem is." Rachel grumbled.

Rufus had just been treated to a live concert of Rachel Berry's notebook-full of songs—all two dozen of them. The poor German Shepard was _very _confused as he watched his sitter for the day cry, unsure as to where Jeremy, Lydia, and/or Quinn were, and wishing his new walker would take him back outside.

The past few hours the puppy had watched the girl sing and cry as she read from her notebook. Between each tune, Rachel would explain to the pup what each song meant to her. Ask for his reactions. Blow her nose particularly obnoxiously and sob her uncertainty.

Rachel blew her nose rather harshly yet again, thinking about how that neglected pillow was a terrible stand-in for her wife. "You _must _understand, Rufus." Rachel implored the German Shepard who feigned interest. "I've tried to be the best _everything_! I've taken vocal, dance, and acting lessons since before I even turned _one_!" Rufus doubted that, but wagged his tail nonetheless. "I've always taken impeccable care of my body and health, excelled at my studies, and read countless how-to books on friendships and relationships throughout my adolescence and teen years in the hopes that everyone would stop referring to me as the loud girl with the two gay dads!"

Rufus whined as he watched Rachel's eyes water yet again.

"But Quinn _still _deserves _more_!" She choked out in a dramatic sob. Rufus refrained from rolling his eyes and instead placed his head on the girl's knee. "She's so _amazing, _Rufus. Just perfect for me! And I want to be perfect for her! But _how _can I become better?"

Rufus looked up at Rachel with his big brown eyes and snorted, getting Rachel's eyebrows to invert as she softly touched her hand to her nose. "Rufus! I will _not _get a nose job!" The dog licked Rachel's knee in apology, and she scratched his head.

"I _know _that I've made a lot of mistakes with Quinn, Rufus, I _know _that. I've made a lot of mistakes in _all_ my past relationships. That's why I'm trying to fix my issues now with Quinn. She deserves _so _much.

"What she's done for me these past two years…" Rachel trailed off as she inhaled deeply and let her eyes slip closed, picturing how wonderful Quinn had been. With that in mind, her eyes fluttered opened as she looked back down at the puppy. "She's done these grand things, Rufus. These wonderfully romantic gestures to prove to me that she cares. Just doing the laundry won't cut it. I must _show _Quinn that she's the one for me. That I-that I _love _her."

Rufus whined as he licked his lips, hoping Rachel would get the hint that he was hungry.

"I know, buddy." Rachel said with a sad smile as she rubbed his head. "It _will _be hard." Rufus drooped in disappointment. "It will be so scary…admitting how I feel. After all the disappointment…" Rachel teared up again, but recovered quickly with a painful chuckle and a roll of her eyes. "Look at me, getting all weepy, making this about me. This should be about _Quinn_. So what, I never had any friends growing up…I have friends _now_. And so what that all my past relationships ended with extreme humiliation and disenchantment…I have _Quinn_! And Quinn is remarkable! And…and who cares that my own mother has rejected me…I have two extremely loving fathers! I have the career of my dreams! I have so, so much."

With a firm nod, Rachel took a deep breath. "That's it! I will tell Quinn that I love her. Jesse was right—don't tell him I said that. This should be about Quinn and making her first time hearing I love you special. And nothing will change. She won't suddenly find me too suffocating. She won't unexpectedly pick up and leave the second I truly allow myself to get comfortable. She won't abruptly feel as though I'm not good enough and sleep with the first sorority slut that tells her she's a fantastic quarterback.

"And, if Quinn needs further reminding, I think it's only fair that we start putting her first a little more. She _says_ she doesn'twant to move to California, but perhaps she's only saying that for our sake. If she wants to work for Conduit, then we'll just have to go. We'd love California! We'd do _brilliantly _in California with all the driving and wide-open spaces and fake people!"

Rufus didn't look convinced, so Rachel offered him a blinding smile that was just a tad forced.

"It may be hard at first, Rufus, but we owe it to Quinn!" As she absentmindedly rubbed the puppy's head, Rachel's teary-eyed gaze went to the TV to distract herself.

She would do what she'd have to do. She wanted to do it all for Quinn. Quinn deserved it. Rachel had gotten her way for two years. She was ready to put her wife before herself. To open up until she bled if it meant making Quinn happy.

"Oh! This is my favorite song!" Rachel cheered as she turned up the volume on the TV, already preparing her voice so she could perform for the puppy that was, no doubt, eager to hear Rachel's superior rendition.

Rufus whined again.

But, at that very moment, just as Rachel was about to really _wow _the German Sheppard, the apartment door busted open, slamming against the wall. While Rufus took off towards the bedroom to hide, Rachel jumped to her feet in alarm, her only weapon stretched out before her.

A very out of breath Lydia, hunched over, cell in hand, reached out her arm towards where Rachel stood holding her notebook in front of her in defense. "Phone…for…you." Lydia gasped.

Rachel's mouth snapped closed as her brows furrowed. She slowly lowered the notebook and hesitantly approached the panting Lydia. "There's a phone call for me?" She asked, truly puzzled by the girl's sudden appearance and the odd reason behind it.

Lydia bobbed her head before placing the cell against her ear. "I did it." She wheezed into her phone. "I got here in less than five minutes."

On the other line, Quinn nodded firmly, glad she called the girl. She knew if she dialed Rachel, her wife wouldn't pick up; too busy avoiding her. "Well done. You can go home now. You get a raise." Lydia beamed and handed her phone over to a puzzled Rachel before swiftly turning around and closing the apartment door behind her, confusing Rachel further.

"Hello?" Rachel asked tentatively into the phone.

"I'm out to dinner so I can't really talk, so let's cut the shit: I'm wet. I'm beyond wet for you right now, Rach. I miss you so much it's all I think about. I'm currently in the bathroom at a very expensive restaurant, barricading myself in here until you make me come. I'm so ready for you, Rachel, so ready. I'm against the door with my skirt up to my hips and my blouse unbuttoned with my breasts—tits-wait, no, I'm not really comfortable with that word yet, so breasts—hanging out. My nipples are so hard and I can't stop pinching them wishing it was you doing it.

"I don't know why you're not talking to me. I don't know why you need space or even if I'm the problem. But I do know that I've missed talking to you today—missed being with you this past week. I do know that I'm horny as hell and it's turning me into High School Quinn. I'm pretty sure that there is a line of people outside wishing to use the restroom. I further know that I don't care about them, only you. So I'm going to keep massaging my breasts—wait, I think I'm drunk enough to say tits-_tits_—as my other hand continues to play with my clit, and I'm not letting you off this phone until I'm screaming your name."

Rachel's legs shook until she slumped down on to the floor, her mouth and eyes wide, and gripped Lydia's cell phone tighter in her hand. "Are…are you-are you…_phone sex_ raping me?" Rachel asked softly in astonishment.

On the other line, Quinn gasped loudly as she circled her clit faster—just hearing Rachel's voice was doing it for her. "I was hoping you'd be into this too." Quinn breathed out, getting Rachel's eyebrows to arch.

She could feel her whole body warming just imagining Quinn, hearing her voice, her heavy breathing, the words she was using. Her traitorous hand had already wondered down her stomach, and Rachel glared at it as she listened to Quinn pant on the other line.

But, Rachel _had _missed Quinn. So, so much! She felt a constant ache inside her swell larger every moment she went without hearing her wife's voice. She had resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't allowed to talk to Quinn without being in the place she needed to be—where _Quinn _needed her to be. She wanted to know exactly what she was feeling, be brave enough to face it, and open up entirely to the woman she loved.

Quinn's phone call really put a kibosh on that plan…in the best way possible.

"You're masturbating right _now_?!" Rachel asked in awe, whispering the words as though shewas the one—not Quinn—doing something very naughty in a very public place.

Quinn's heavy panting was answer enough, but her breathy "_yes_," ignited the best kind of shiver through Rachel. She swallowed thickly as she balanced her phone between her shoulder and cheek, and quickly undid the ties on her yoga pants.

"You're in the apartment?" Quinn moaned out, wanting a visual.

Rachel nodded awkwardly as she yanked down her pants. "Yes, the living room floor."

"_Fuck, _that's hot. Where we-"

"Right before you left, yeah." Rachel confirmed, both women remembering the sex they shared right before Quinn left for Lima.

Quinn's eyes slammed shut as she slid a finger through her wetness and back up to rub her aching clit. "What are you wearing?"

Not wanting to lie, Rachel quickly flailed her legs and kicked hard until she was free of her pants, balanced the phone precariously on her shoulder as she ripped her tank top off, and shucked off her panties—only squeaking lightly when she almost fell over. "Naked. I'm _completely _naked!" Rachel panted, slightly out of breath from how fast she managed the task.

Quinn's eyes rolled back into her head as she envisioned Rachel. "Spread your legs nice and wide for me." She husked.

Rachel clapped her hand over the mouth piece of her phone. "Rufus!" She shrieked out to the dog hiding somewhere in the bedroom. "Stay in the bedroom, sweetheart: you're way too little to see this." The answering whimper was enough for Rachel, and soon, her legs were spread and her left hand was braced against the living room floor. "Okay, I'm ready for you, what do you want me to do?"

Quinn whined deep in her throat at Rachel's words. What she wouldn't give to be with her wife. "I changed my mind; I want you on the kitchen table." Quinn rumbled, flicking her clit back and forth as she let the fantasy play out, clawing at her rumpled clothes to give herself more skin and space to play with.

Rachel's eyes went wide at the request. "Quinn! That's far from sanitary! What if we have guests?!" She said crossly, however, already on her feet.

"Keep saying stuff like that: your righteous indignation is so fucking turning me on right now." For a moment, as Rachel went to hop onto the table, she thought her wife was being sarcastic. But the sob of pleasure that came through the line made Rachel think otherwise. She cocked her head as her eyebrow rose with the realization. "You must really love me." Rachel mumbled under her breath as she got situated on top of the table.

"What_?_" Quinn asked distractedly, not catching Rachel epiphany, too caught up with the visions of Rachel on the table, naked, legs spread wide, touching herself for Quinn.

Rachel cleared her throat to pause for time. "I _said…_'it's hardly sanitary to be touching yourself in a bathroom, either.' You should _really _not do that Quinn…not without me there, at any rate." She smirked, getting situated on the tabletop.

"_Mmmm, _now I'm thinking about the benefit and what we did in the bathroom." Quinn reminisced, pinching and stroking her clit as she recalled Rachel riding her.

Rachel's head thumped against the wall as she swallowed thickly, the muscles in her neck straining. "That was the start of one of the best nights of my life." She groaned, visions of her and Quinn in the bathroom, and later, in their bedroom, quickly flickered behind her closed eyelids. Laying on top of Quinn, cupping her hands softly just under her wife's jaw to keep hazel eyes locked on her own, and moving in tandem as that intense gaze owned her.

Quinn's body shivered as she heard the sincerity in her wife's voice. The emotion that was laced throughout. It had been one of the best nights of Quinn's, too. It made Quinn's hand slow its pace until she was circling her clit with longer, harder strokes and only one thing on her mind.

"I want you here with me, Rach." Rachel, neck still arched, let one hand cup her breast and squeeze while the other caressed between her thighs, wanting Quinn with her as well. Feeling the weight of her wife's body against hers. Licking away her sweat. Panting in her ear without a phone line and distance separating them. They both moaned at the shared thought. "Or, better yet…" Quinn began, her hips rolling steadily as she imagined Rachel slowly fucking her. "I want to be where you are."

"_Fuck, _Quinn, always." Rachel replied, now, too far gone to censor her words, her thoughts. "I want to be _anywhere _as long as it's with you."

"Don't shut me out." Quinn whispered desperately, circling her clit even harder and faster than before, wanting to feel the connection with Rachel that had felt severed.

"I don't want to shut you out, baby; I don't want to be away from you." Rachel whined, two fingers now sliding through her wetness in deep, long strokes. The way Quinn fucked her best.

"Talk to me, please, always talk to me. I love hearing you talk. I love hearing what you have to say."

_I love _you was on the tip of Rachel's tongue in reply. But through the haze of her impending orgasm, Rachel knew now wasn't the right time. She wanted to give Quinn the perfect first time: romance and passion, what Quinn deserved. With that thought, she concentrated on her wife, her love, and moaned as she thrust harder; wanting to give something to Quinn to know that she belonged to her.

"I'm _yours, _Quinn, do you hear me? I'm _yours_! Nothing and no one will ever change that."

"That's it, Rach. _Fuck_, it feels so good." Quinn gasped, the sounds of Rachel's pleasure pushed her until she felt weightless, and chills and shivers and love rushed and rolled throughout her body. She softly chanted Rachel's name as she heard Rachel echo Quinn's back, coming just as hard as Quinn.

As Rachel's body arched violently with her pleasure, she whispered _yours _until she couldn't speak at all, slumping against the table, unable to move.

In a bathroom stall, in a fancy restaurant, just outside Lima, Ohio, Quinn Fabray came into her hand, sagging against the door, smiling serenely as she listened to her wife's jagged breathing. She sighed happily as she felt the tension of the entire last day disappear. "That was fantastic." Quinn breathed out, her smile only getting wider.

On the other line, Rachel chuckled back and drooped further onto the table. "I'm going to need to _thoroughly_ clean this table."

"That good, huh?" Quinn asked playfully.

Rachel laughed lightly and moaned as she dragged one hand through her disheveled hair as she answered. "That good." They were both silent as they recovered, contentedly exhausted. Propping herself up on her elbow, Rachel's smile slowly vanished. "I'm calling you tomorrow."

Quinn hummed a reply, not fully ready for thinking.

"I'll call you when I get up, and on my way to the theatre, and in between shows, and when my last show is done, and when I get home, and…"

It was Quinn's turn to chuckle now, a rakish sound that made Rachel smirk. "_There's _my girl." She smiled, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder before carefully fixing her clothes and bending over to pick up her forgotten purse.

As Quinn stood in front of the bathroom mirror and straightened her tousled appearance, Rachel's mind zoomed with thoughts of Quinn. Of how she felt. What she could do to make Quinn's first real I love you the most monumental moment for the girl. How grand and memorable it could be.

Rachel smiled as the ideas came. She would need help. She'd need to start planning immediately. Many, many items needed to be purchased and arranged to insure her success.

Not wanting to waist another moment, Rachel hopped off the table, grabbed her clothes, and raced to the bedroom to collect a legal pad to jot down all her ideas. "Rach?" Quinn asked, halting her makeup touchups as her eyebrow rose, listening to her wife's struggling noises through the phone line. "You okay?"

"Fine, fine, perfectly fine." Rachel assured, her voice muffled as she stuffed her shirt over her head. Changing her mind, she quickly left the bedroom, hopping into her yoga pants and balancing the phone on her shoulder as she went, hurrying into the kitchen to get cleaning supplies, and back to the table to spray it profusely.

"Are you sure? You sound a little crazy right now. Are you in crazy-Rachel mode?" Quinn asked as she carefully reapplied her lipstick, popping her lips and smiling at her appearance happily—the world felt right again now that she was easily talking with Rachel.

"Just doing a little cleaning," Rachel sing-songed back, scrubbing at the table before blinking down at the reflection in its surface—she had been using her bra and panties instead of the paper towels in her other hand. Her brow crinkled in confusion at her own antics, Rachel gave up and sprinted back into the bedroom to start compiling her list of things she'd need to declare her everlasting love and devotion to her beautiful wife.

"Rach?" Quinn asked calmly, smiling as she heard Rachel's heavy panting floating through the phone line, and turned to the side to inspect her appearance in the bathroom mirror—her clothes looked only somewhat askew. Rachel hummed and Quinn grinned, aware she only had half her wife's attention. "Why aren't you talking about the Oscars?"

Rachel scribbled down a few things she'd need to buy for Operation: Declare My Love (candles, flowers, bacon-covered chocolates…) as her mind continued to race. "It will be fine, Quinn." She answered distractedly.

Quinn laughed, completely charmed and in the moment. "Because you know you'll win or because you won't be upset if you lose?"

Rachel, barely paying attention but loving the sound of Quinn's laughter and voice posing as a backdrop for her thoughts, scratched out what she had just wrote—procuring McKinley's glee club wouldn't be difficult, Rachel just wasn't sure they were good enough for what she had in mind.

"Not worried." Rachel mumbled as she wondered just how expensive seventy-two long stemmed roses—a dozen for every year she'd known Quinn—would run her. But after doing the math, Rachel scribbled out that idea and went onto the next.

With her hand on the bathroom door, Quinn smiled and sighed, knowing she had lost her wife to whatever she was planning, and wouldn't have her any other way. "Care to share _why_, exactly, you're so calm about losing out an Academy Award nomination, superstar?"

Finally finding her way back to the conversation, pleased with the list of things she already complied for her operation, Rachel frowned at the question. "I see no reason for us to talk about this, Quinn. I _won't _win and it doesn't make sense that we should dwell on it: there is always the next film." Rachel replied haughtily, wanting to steer clear of the topic altogether. "Be_sides_," she stressed with an eye roll, getting Quinn's eyebrows to rise in amusement. "Shouldn't you be more concerned with my _next _project? That is, after all, what I'm paying you for, wifey."

Quinn bit her lip as she smiled at Rachel's flirty banter. "I wasn't aware you were paying me, superstar."

Rachel smirked. "What do you call what just took place, baby?" Quinn laughed and Rachel lit up at the sound. "I'll call you first thing tomorrow."

"You better."

"Miss you like crazy, Fabray."

"Right back at you, Berry."

As Quinn hung up, she still heard Rachel's squeals of delight echoing throughout the bathroom. She shook her head with a chuckle and finally opened the bathroom door only to be greeted with a very disgruntled woman and her young daughter, who was doing the well-known pee-pee dance.

Quinn offered them a beaming smile. "I apologize endlessly, ma'am, and hope I can make it up to you by buying you and your party dinner?" The woman's mouth dropped open, but Quinn ignored her as she got down to a knee to smile at the little girl. "How does that sound, sweetheart? If mommy says yes, how would you like a big ice cream sundae?"

The little girl clapped and cheered, getting Quinn to smile.

"I'll make sure it's taken care of. And have a _lovely_ dinner." With that, Quinn swept passed the woman and headed out towards the restaurant. As soon as she neared the table, she spotted the male waiter she had treated horribly, standing near Puck who was looking bored and pissed, drumming his hands miserably atop the tablecloth.

Without missing a beat, Quinn dipped her fingers in her purse, extracted the first bill her fingers touched, and smoothly took the waiter's hand to make the exchange. "My most humble apologies for my earlier behavior." The waiter's eyebrows flew up as he felt the note slip into his hand and took in Quinn's brilliant smile. "Being away from my wife makes me _very _cranky, and you and your coworkers do not deserve the backlash."

Puck chuckled behind his wine glass, taking in Quinn's still-flushed face and over-all euphoric demeanor. It was obvious why Quinn's mood had suddenly shifted.

"Please do see that the woman who exits the bathroom with her daughter and their party are taken care of for the evening on my charge. And offer a round on me to the entire restaurant with my most sincere apologies for my behavior." Quinn gave the waiter another glowing smile before sweeping into her chair and gulping down the water in the glass in front of her.

Puck watched on, shaking his head and smiling, as waiters all over the restaurant carried out Quinn's orders. He noticed a lot of appreciative glances being shot Quinn's way from the surrounding tables as their fresh drinks were brought to them, and a lot of cell phones out tweeting their good fortune.

Once the water was drained from her glass, Quinn turned to Puck and offered him a blinding smile. "I'm sorry about that." She said musically, all the tension wiped clean and replaced with a serene smile. "Let's get some dessert!"

Meanwhile, in New York City, Rachel, with Rufus in tow, was banging loudly on Lydia and Jeremy's apartment door with her wild, crazy eyes and determined, fixed smile. When Jeremy answered, Rachel swept by him in a tizzy, dropped Lydia's phone onto the couch beside her where the girl was watching TV, and let Rufus off his leash so he could play with Trevor—the black Lab was wagging his tail at the sight of the puppy.

"Fellow friends of me and Quinn, we have a very important job to accomplish and a limited amount of time in which to succeed. I suggest we turn off the television, put away the marijuana, and get to work!"

Lydia and Jeremy were staring at Rachel blankly with their eyes narrowed.

"Right now, right now!" Rachel cheered, clapping her hands to spur the pair into action. Jeremy raced to Rachel's side, looking excited and eager. Lydia huffed loudly and slowly got to her feet—she had a feeling this job wouldn't warrant a raise. Rachel appraised her two friends before shooting her gaze to the Lab on the floor. "You too, Trevor!"

X

Quinn tiredly trudged up the steps of the Berry home as she yanked off the navy blazer she wore to dinner with Puck and juggled her glass of water and purse. Both Hiram and Leroy had seen the drunken state she was in and banished her to bed without their usual late-night movie. They pronounced that she was to stay in bed to at least eight the next morning, and was forbidden to perform her usual breakfast duties—they would be serving _her _breakfast in bed for a change.

Without bothering to turn on the lights to Rachel's childhood bedroom, Quinn slinked inside and dropped her jacket and purse onto the floor before slipping off her dress as she kicked aside her ankle boots. She would just sleep in her panties and camisole, not worrying and too drunk to change.

She felt much better now that she had spoken to Rachel. Whatever issues Rachel had before were, for the moment, on the back burner. Quinn wasn't naive enough to believe that everything was now fine between them, but the issue could hold until she was back in New York and able to confront Rachel in person.

Quinn had no idea why her wife was suddenly okay with not winning an award. An Oscar, this early into her career—film career, no less—was puzzling. It was somewhat reminiscent of how Rachel behaved in high school. And, if Rachel was smothering Quinn with love and affection, hell-bent on proving that their relationship was the most important thing to her, then Quinn would be worried for a completely different reason.

But Rachel had been avoiding Quinn as well. Although that now appeared to no longer be the case, Rachel _had _been avoiding her. So what was Rachel up to? To not take Quinn's phone calls _and _unconcerned with losing out on an award? An award that would eventually fulfill Rachel's greatest dream of an EGOT! Something just wasn't right.

With a deep, tired sigh, Quinn slipped under the covers and rolled over onto her side, ready to cling to the fluffy pillow she had been using as a poor Rachel substitute. Or she would have, if there wasn't a head currently residing on it.

Quinn simultaneously screamed as she jerked up in the bed, quickly flicking on the bedside lamp and scurrying out of the covers.

The bedroom door burst open, the Berry men filled the space in a panic from hearing their daughter-in-law's scream, both men looking petrified. Quinn took in the form of Jesse St. James, disheveled from just being woken, sitting up on the other side of the bed. "Jesse!" Quinn yelled, equal parts terrified as she was surprised. "What the _hell _are you doing here?!"

Jesse rubbed his eyes as he promptly yawned with exaggeration. "_God_, Quinn, turn out the lights, will you? I'm clearly trying to get my beauty sleep."

Quinn turned around, wide-eyed, to look at the Berry men, who seemed just as surprised by his appearance. Rearing back on him, Quinn put her hands on her hips and hissed back. "What the hell are you doing here? In Lima _and _my bed?!"

Jesse sat up and rolled his eyes. "It's hardly _your _bed, Quinn." He answered calmly. "Hello Mr. and Mr. Berry." Jesse smiled charmingly and waved with a delicate flutter of his fingers. Quinn rolled her eyes as she threw up her arms, not entirely surprised by the boy's behavior, but exasperated nonetheless. Leroy waved back much in the same way—even if he was slack-jawed—as Hiram adjusted his glasses.

"Well, seeing as you're _not _being murdered, dear, Lee and I will get back to the wedding special." Both men had taken to watching it repeatedly because Rachel and Quinn were too cute in their minds. They left with quick good nights, letting Quinn sort out the sleeping situation. Quinn sucked on her teeth as she stared down at him. But as she watched Jesse fidget in bed, almost sheepishly, Quinn felt her anger drain. She quickly found a pair of shorts and put them on, not so comfortable in only her underwear with Jesse there.

"Move over, would ya." She mumbled, motioning him to do so with a flick of her hand. Jesse's face lit up as he scooted over enthusiastically. She took an embellished breath to keep her anger in check—phone sex with Rachel could _really _change her mood—and stared up at the ceiling as she felt his eyes on her. "What happened?" She asked grudgingly.

Jesse mirrored her position, blanket up to his chin, and frowned. "Your wife's psychotic."

Quinn stifled the urge to agree. "You're fighting with Rachel?"

"Yes." Jesse growled back quietly.

That was interesting. Fighting with Jesse? Not talking to Quinn earlier? "Why?" Quinn asked, hoping to get insight into Rachel's need for space.

Part of Jesse wanted to spill it all. Everything from Rachel's ridiculously awful song; her complete inability to confess her undying love to Quinn; and Quinn letting slip over the phone that she loved Rachel. But, there was the bet he had with Lydia and Jeremy to consider. The bet they made way back when Rachel and Quinn had their engagement party. A bet that had grown exponentially over the last few months. It started out as a fun game between the three, waiting to see when the two girls would give into their love and lust for one another.

If Quinn or Rachel declared their love on either a Tuesday or Thursday, Jesse would win the bet. It was neither a Tuesday nor a Thursday. So, instead of coming clean on everything—it wasn't even his place to do so, anyway—he mumbled back, "She mocked my love life."

Quinn turned her head on the pillow and narrowed her eyes at the boy still staring up at the ceiling. "That's not really Rachel's style, Jesse. Are you sure it wasn't me or Lydia?"

Jesse turned on his side and propped himself up on an elbow to look down at Quinn. "It was Rachel. She said all this stuff and sang me her dreadful song, and with my show going on the road for the next five weeks, it just seemed like a really good idea to get out of the city."

Quinn was still puzzled. "You got in a fight with Rachel and it made you want to leave New York?" Jesse shrugged, averting his eyes. Suddenly the truth was clear. "You came here to try to win Holly Holiday back, didn't you?"

Jesse flopped back down on the bed. "I just don't understand what her problem is! Why isn't she madly in love with me?!"

Quinn sighed and turned fully to face him. "What did you do?"

"I did some social network stalking and found out Holly was at the Lima Lounge for karaoke night. You have to understand, I was really upset over my fight with that horrible wife of yours and got a little drunk with Lydia and Jeremy. Next thing I knew, I'm on the Red Eye headed for Ohio. It only made sense to go to the bar: I mean, it was _karaoke night_, Quinn, it was practically a _sign _that I should go."

Quinn calmly nodded. Then she wondered exactly _when _she started to understand statements like "It was karaoke night, Quinn, it was practically a sign that I should go." Probably around the time she fell for Rachel.

"Anyway." Jesse went on, gesturing wildly. "I showed up at the bar and did a rather fantastic 80's mash-up of Eddie Money's _Take Me Home Tonight_ and the Outfield's _Your Love_."

"Of course."

"Of course!" Jesse's agreed. "And it went perfectly. We went back to her place and-"

Quinn held up her hand. "Spare me those details."

"And I thought that _this _time things would be different! But she kicked me out after!" Jesse said indignantly. "I mean, Quinn, if I had only sung _one _of those songs I would understand, but that mash-up was flawless!"

"So you came here." Quinn filled in, sitting up to run a hand tiredly through her hair.

"I can't go back to New York because I'm sure no one else can fit in the damn city while Rachel's ego is taking up residence, and I will _not _check into any of the flee-bag motels Lima has to offer. So I'm staying here."

"The Berrys' have a guest room, you know." Quinn stressed, barely able to hold in her sarcasm and contempt.

Jesse only shrugged. "Rachel's bed is more comfortable." Quinn rolled her eyes and considered the guest room to sleep in for the night. Somehow, the idea of leaving Rachel's old bed in favor of the cold guest room made her feel even farther away from her wife.

"We're not cuddling." Quinn huffed as she slunk back down under the sheets.

"Understood." There was a moment of silence that was soon filled with the sound of Jesse sniffing loudly. "You smell like a distillery."

"I was out with Puck."

"Again?" Jesse asked as he nuzzled into his pillow.

"Again. You better not snore."

"You seem to spend quite a bit of time with Puckerman." Jesse grumbled. Quinn ignored the comment. "And I was under the impression snoring reminded you of Rachel; wouldn't it help you sleep better?"

"Shut up, St. James."

"Night, night, Quinn."

"Shut up."

"Cute panties by the way."

"Shut _up_!"

X

The next morning the Berry men brought Quinn and Jesse breakfast in bed. All four of them sat on Rachel's bed while they ate, discussing their plans for the day. And, as promised, Rachel had called just as Quinn went to work on the dishes—Jesse was conveniently too busy to help.

Initially, Quinn had been very excited to see her wife's smiling face on her cell. However, once Quinn answered, it became very clear that she still didn't have all of Rachel's attention.

Several times during their short conversation, Rachel had asked Quinn to excuse her while she took another call or covered the mouth piece of the phone to speak with someone. Then Rachel abruptly told Quinn that she needed to go and hung up with a mysterious tone that confirmed that Rachel Berry was up to something. She wasn't _avoiding_ Quinn—she did promise to text and call again, both promises she fulfilled—but she was decidedly distracted whenever they communicated.

Phone calls were interrupted. Texts took longer than usual to get answered. Subject-changing subterfuge.

Quinn was _positive _her wife was up to something.

For the most part, Quinn was free for the day. She really only had a quick meeting with Artie, who had big plans for filming a music video for both Mercedes and Sam's boy band, and drinks later with Tina, so she had a lot of time to speculate about her wife.

Jesse was adamant that he tag along, and Quinn was too busy wondering anew over Rachel's perplexing behavior to fully shut him down, and instead, welcomed his presence if only to squabble with someone. The pair was still bickering over Jesse's "notes" for Artie on his creative vision for the music videos when they walked into the bar where Quinn was meeting Tina. Quinn checked her phone one last time before stowing it away, slightly irritated that Rachel had yet to reply to her text.

"I just don't understand why you were babying him. Is it the wheelchair thing? Because I have no problem telling him his ideas suck." Jesse told her as she ignored him, glancing around the bar and trying to find her friend. He kept yapping as Quinn scanned the dark bar just outside Lima's city limits and found a pair of eyes examining her from the back corner booth.

Quinn easily dismissed the older man, recognizing him as a member of her church back when Quinn was still a "good girl," and spotted Tina on a stool, talking and laughing with the girl next to her. Tina caught her stare and Quinn smiled brightly as Tina waved happily, motioning her over.

"Hey!" Tina exclaimed, jumping up to hug Quinn. Once they separated, Tina came face to face with Jesse, her arms still outstretched from her hug with Quinn, and recoiled harshly. "Um…Jesse." Tina greeted awkwardly.

But Jesse wasn't looking at Tina, too busy smiling at the girl Tina had just been chatting with. The girl in question took in Jesse's comically-wide smile, Tina's confusion and discomfort, and Quinn rolling her eyes.

"Quinn, this is my friend Aphasia and fellow Jane Addams Academy teacher. Aphasia, this is my friend Quinn Fabray." Tina then made a face as her smile dropped. "And Jesse St. James, who is _not _my friend." Tina clarified vehemently.

Quinn and Aphasia smiled at one another and shook hands, just as Jesse wrapped an arm around Tina's waist. "Tina, always the kidder!" Jesse joked, his eyes on Aphasia, before getting Quinn's attention. "This one is Tina, right?" He mouthed. Quinn nodded, getting Jesse to beam before turning back to Aphasia and holding out his hand. "Aphasia, what a beautiful name. I believe it means the condition that robs you of speech—how fitting." Jesse smiled charmingly.

Aphasia didn't look impressed, getting Jesse's arm to fall to his side when she didn't accept his hand. "Jesse St. James." Aphasia mentioned coolly. "Vocal Adrenaline, right?"

"So you've heard of me?" Jesse smirked. Aphasia, however, remained stoic, ruffling Jesse's confidence.

Tina shook off her look of disgust and turned to her friend. "Quinn, have a seat. I was just telling Aphasia all about the amazing job you got me."

Aphasia finally removed her gaze from Jesse to smile at Quinn. "Yeah, Quinn, sounds like you got some skills in the agent world." She said, impressed with what she'd seen and heard of Rachel and Quinn.

Quinn blushed lightly. "Tina really deserves all the credit. I'm just lucky enough to know all the right people. I'm sorry, but you look familiar. Did you go to Carmel high school, too?" She asked Aphasia, wondering if that was how she knew Jesse. Quinn took the seat next to Tina, leaving Jesse to stand awkwardly amongst the girls.

Tina looked at her coworker and laughed as Aphasia's expression darkened. "_Hell _no! I'm a proud graduate of Jane Adams Academy and former member of their glee club!" She said, rising slightly from her seat to shake her ass. Both Jesse and Quinn's eyes honed in on the action while Tina laughed at her coworker.

A light bulb went off for Quinn in that moment as Aphasia took her seat again. "Yes!" Quinn said, smiling. "I remember you guys! Sophomore year we scrimmaged with you at our school; you performed _Bootylicious_. We competed at Sectionals that year."

Tina shook her head, instantly knowing how Quinn made the connection. "How did no one know you were gay?" She asked Quinn playfully.

Quinn gave Tina an eye roll and a smile before turning back to Aphasia. "So you teach there now?"

"Uh huh. Our glee club director, Ms. Hitchens, was a big inspiration to me." Aphasia said before taking a sip of her drink through her straw. "I was a bit of a handful back then-"

"A bit?" Tina laughed.

"Yea, a _bit_!" Aphasia answered, but her attitude was negated with a smile, getting Quinn to laugh at the exchange. "Any_way_," she continued, shooting Tina a playful mind-your-business look before it morphed into a slightly sadder smile. "Ms. Hitchens got sick my senior year and the glee club had to disband. She kicked that cancer's ass like the bad chick she is, but we were all really scared for her. Made me turn my shit around."

"That's truly inspirational." Three sets of eyes turned silently towards the boy they had all forgotten about.

"Yeah, well," Aphasia moved on, noticing Quinn and Tina's soft smiles over Jesse's ass-kissing ways. "I had a lot of summer school to catch up on and some community service, but I managed to get into college and decided that I wanted to do what Ms. Hitchens did and straighten some kids out to show them there's more to life than pick pocketing and robbing banks."

"You robbed banks?" Quinn deadpanned as Tina giggled.

"I _also _said pick pocketing, blondie, so don't test me." Quinn held up her hands and smiled, noticing that Tina was laughing harder still and that Aphasia was only kidding. "Yeah, so, I'm gonna continue teaching at Jane Adams and maybe even take my glee club to Nationals one day—if we can only beat those damn New Direction kids—while my girl Tina here goes and takes New York by storm."

"Hey, leave New Directions alone!" Tina said, turning to poke her friend in the shoulder.

"Yeah!" Quinn fake-glared. "We'll wipe the floor with Jane Adams!"

"Vocal Adrenaline will beat all your asses!" Jesse rejoined to dead silence.

Aphasia winked at Tina and Quinn and turned on her stool to face the boy. "Why don't you make yourself useful, pretty boy, and go get us some drinks?"

Jesse's face lit up at "pretty" and he smiled delightfully at the girl. "I'll be right back."

"You do that." She answered, giving him a look that implied she was not at all impressed. Jesse felt his spirits wither, but he wouldn't give up and hurriedly took off towards the bartender.

"I think someone has a crush on you." Tina giggled to her friend as Quinn laughed beside her.

"Good luck with him, Aphasia, he doesn't give up easily." Quinn warned.

Aphasia turned back towards the two girls, looking away from Jesse, as her face broke out into a huge smile. "Are you guys kidding?! _That's _Jesse St. James, four-time Nationals winner and former lead vocalist for Vocal Adrenaline. _Never mind _all the shit that boy got going on now in New York on Broadway _and_ an upcoming movie in L.A.!"

Quinn and Tina exchanged mystified expressions. "You…_like_ Jesse St. James?" Tina asked, eyes wide.

Aphasia nodded enthusiastically. "While me and my moms were crashing at the homeless shelter when I was in high school, Jesse used to come perform weekly. Boy be _fiiiine_!" Aphasia stressed before turning back to look at Jesse. He was too busy doing everything in his power to get the attention of the disinterested bartender.

"Are you serious?" Quinn asked doubtfully, also looking at the boy with an eyebrow arched.

"Why did you act like you barely knew him?" Tina asked with a laugh.

"Because I can't be acting like every other fangirl, throwing myself at him; I have to play hard to get. He's so not housebroken, but we'll see what we can do about that." Aphasia nodded confidently. When Jesse returned, practically running, Aphasia glared at him. "Took you long enough!"

X

Rachel was, to be fair, a little tired. She had a very late night over at Lydia and Jeremy's planning her operation and another grueling day on stage. In between sound checks, interviews on her recent Tony, Golden Globe, and Oscar nominations on network new shows, signing autographs for fans, and performances, Rachel was hard at work calling different vendors to ensure that her operation to declare her love to Quinn went off without a hitch.

She felt bad, truly, that she was almost too busy to talk to her wife. She tried her very best to keep updating Quinn on her progress and mood throughout the day, but there was just so much still left to do!

But, Rachel conceded silently, it was perhaps for the best that she didn't have a lot of time to chat with Quinn. Less time to talk, less chances to declare her love and spill the beans on Quinn's upcoming surprise.

And, maybe, less chances to talk herself out of everything. Because, while Rachel knew without a doubt that she had been madly in love with Quinn Fabray for the last two years—and possibly longer—she was still a tad nervous to fully face that love when she had so much to lose. Keeping busy cut down on the likelihood that she'd run scared again.

"Hello." Quinn said as she picked up her phone, her tone somewhat clipped. She hadn't heard from Rachel in several hours. Luckily for Quinn, Aphasia and Jesse were still at the bar long after she and Tina had left for the night. As she lay in bed, grateful that Jesse wasn'tin it, she was slowly driving herself crazy willing her phone to buzz to hear from Rachel.

"Hey, you." Rachel cooed back, only a little surprised by Quinn's less than friendly greeting.

Rachel listened as her wife took a deep breath on the other line, almost as though she was preparing herself. "Are you angry with me because I was too lazy earlier this week to get up to grab my laptop so we could Skype-sex?"

Rachel's eyebrows furrowed as she halted in the doorway of her dressing room. Her performance had ended a little over two hours ago, but she hadn't yet left the theatre. She had autographs to sign, coworkers to celebrate with, and the operation to finalize.

She was exhausted, but actually had some free time to talk to Quinn. "_Nooo_?" Rachel drawled out, thoroughly confused with Quinn's logic. "I thought our phone sex was well above average, and, if I remember correctly..." Rachel thought with a sly smile. "It was _well _above average for you as well."

Quinn sat up in bed and ran a hand through her hair, not at all amused by how sexy Rachel was acting. "You have to tell me what I did, Rach, you _have to_! I'm going crazy over here not knowing! We've barely spoken today and it's obvious that I'm the cause. Whenever you _do_ get around to talking to me, you seem distracted!" She panted, tired of putting this conversation on hold. "And you're fighting with Jesse!" Quinn finished lamely as she slapped the covers of the bed. She felt that it was a very important point, though.

Rachel dropped her bag onto to the floor and fell down onto the couch of her dressing room. "Quinn, I promise you that I'm no longer avoiding talking to you and-"

"Ah _hah_! So you admit it! You_ were_ avoiding me!"

Rachel's eyebrows crinkled again as she glanced around her dressing room in confusion. "Quinn, I already admitted as much to you yesterday."

That was true, Quinn conceded, but she was tired of letting everything slide. "But you're fighting with Jesse!"

"Jesse's an ass." Rachel dismissed with an eye roll as she tiredly dropped back on the couch.

"Ah _hah_, so you _finally _admit it!"

Rachel chuckled as her eyes slipped shut. "That's something else I'm fairly certain I've already admitted."

Quinn heaved a sigh. "We've barely talked today."

She could feel herself cracking, so close to telling Quinn about her huge scheme. Biting her lip to keep from spilling everything, Rachel rolled over onto her side. "If I swear to you on my first Tony—which I shall be receiving in only a month's time—that I'm not avoiding you and only am extremely busy, can we please change the subject?"

Quinn considered that for a moment. "Fine."

"Thank you. I swear on my first Tony I'm not avoiding you. Now, please, change the subject. I will talk about anything else."

"Anything?" Quinn asked, eager for her wife to agree.

"Anything." Rachel responded.

Quinn waited a beat. "Why aren't you bringing up the Academy Awards?"

Rachel covered her face and laughed miserably. "_Quinn_!" She whined. "Anything _other _than that!"

"But _you _said that-"

"I _know _what I said!" Rachel stressed in a painful groan. "But that has to do with the _other _thing, and I just _really _don't want to get into it."

Quinn shook her head, truly puzzled. "The Oscars have to do with why you were avoiding me?"

Rachel blew out a breath. "Yes." She answered after a moment.

Although Quinn would like nothing more than to pursue the subject until she got to the bottom of Rachel's feelings, she knew that she couldn't. It was official: the distance was just too much for Quinn. She hated being away from Rachel. If only so she couldn't properly fight with her stubborn, idiotic wife.

Quinn smiled at the thought of how ridiculous Rachel could behave. She couldn't help it: Quinn just really _liked _her. Of course she loved her, was _in _love with her, and desired her. But she just really, generally liked Rachel. She was this brilliant little ball of sunshine that made Quinn forget that bad things could happen. That bad things _had _happened to Quinn.

"Hey, Rach?" Quinn asked, her smile growing.

"Yes, Quinn?" Rachel answered back, relieved by Quinn's now playful tone.

"Who's your best friend?"

Rachel chuckled softly. "_You_." She expelled easily, wishing she was with Quinn so strongly in that moment.

"That's right, Berry, me."

"_So _proud of yourself for that, Fabray."

Quinn hummed her agreement and finally got comfortable under the covers. Rachel just did that for her. She could stress and worry all day long. And then hear her wife's voice and know that everything would be fine. They would be fine. Their marriage would be fine. She just needed to be in the same room with Rachel. She'd even settle for the same state.

Rachel also collected herself and felt human for the first time in forty-eight hours. It worried her that Quinn was freaking out about her behavior, but, she rationalized, it would all be over soon. Once her plan was executed, everything would be perfect.

"So, tell me about your night." Rachel said, getting comfortable on the couch, in no hurry to go home where Quinn wouldn't be.

"It was nice." Quinn began. "Your ex boyfriend is in town and has been annoying me to no end. Did you know he was here?"

Rachel knew Quinn was talking about Jesse. There was a certain way Quinn said "ex boyfriend" that was both annoyed and affectionate all at once. "Jesse's in Lima? Why?"

"Holly, of course." Quinn grumbled. "But I think he's finally over her." Rachel smiled as she heard Quinn's pleased tone. "He's currently on a date with a friend of Tina's who has a parole officer. I seriously can't think of a better match for him…"

X

The next evening, Quinn was zoning out as she stirred the Massaman curry she was currently cooking for dinner. She was mentally counting down the days until she'd get to see Rachel—three. Only three days.

Their phone conversation the night before alleviated most of Quinn's worries, but she was going slightly out of her mind. The distance between them was starting to feel farther every day.

And she was horny. She'd deny it until her last breath, but she may have masturbated to one of Rachel's old Myspace videos she found on her wife's desktop computer earlier that morning.

Deny it to her last breath!

For many reasons.

"When will dinner be ready, sweetheart?" Leroy asked as he dropped his chin to Quinn's shoulder. Quinn managed not to jump ten feet in the air as her face turned red. She had, yet again, been fantasizing about Rachel. With Leroy there, Quinn couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"Twenty minutes." She told him, giving him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances.

Leroy frowned, mistaking Quinn's discomfort. Fearing his daughter-in-law was tired of her stay, Leroy couldn't help but ask, "Are we making you feel like a servant? Are we demanding too much of your time? Hiram can be _such _a diva." Leroy said as he stood up straight, folding his arms as he rolled his eyes.

Quinn chuckled as she shook her head. Leroy was clearly the diva, however, Quinn now knew where Rachel received her inability to hang up her wet towels: Hiram just couldn't seem to be bothered either.

"I love cooking and spending time with you two; I don't feel like a servant."

Leroy looked unconvinced and narrowed his gaze down at her. "Are you sure? Because it may have been a tad presumptuous of us to make you redecorate the living room."

Quinn laughed again. "Truly, Lee, I'm enjoying myself. I just miss Rachel."

Leroy nodded, pleased. "Yes, our girl is quite miss-able."

"Yes, quite." Quinn agreed easily as she stirred coconut milk and vegetable broth into her skillet.

Leroy smiled sympathetically down at his daughter-in-law, easily seeing her sadness. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her shoulder. "You'll see her soon."

Quinn nodded but kept her mouth tightly shut. She wasn't about to mention how worried she was over Rachel's distant behavior. They had a nice conversation the night before after Quinn promised not to push Rachel for any details. They had gotten off the phone late, and Rachel swore she would call Quinn the next evening, but Quinn was still nervous. _Something _was troubling her wife.

She'd be home soon, so whether Rachel wanted to or not, she'd have to face Quinn. Have to speak to her about what was bothering her. Quinn just hoped that whatever it was could easily be fixed. Because the alternative was making Quinn's stomach twist violently.

As Quinn slowly stirred the simmering coconut milk in her broth, the doorbell sounded, the notes reverberating gently.

"That will be Jesse and his date!" Hiram boomed, quickly bypassing Quinn and Leroy in the kitchen to get the door.

Quinn huffed loudly and returned to the meal. Earlier that morning, Jesse had knocked rather loudly on Rachel's childhood bedroom door in an effort to wake Quinn—she had placed a chair securely under the knob to keep the boy out.

She tiredly dragged herself out of bed to answer his persistent knocking and was almost bowled over by his enthusiastic jumping. His night out with Aphasia after the bar had been a success, and he had asked the girl over to the Berrys' for dinner. He was there to beg Quinn to cook …and to be on her best behavior.

It took over an hour for the negotiations. They went back and forth quite a bit, arms folded, game faces on. In the end, Quinn agreed to make dinner and behave, as long as Jesse slept in the guest room while he and Quinn were staying at the Berrys', and went back to referring to Quinn as "Mrs. Fabray." It took another hour for Quinn's smug smile to vanish.

As Quinn continued to move around the kitchen, she could hear Jesse introducing Hiram and Leroy to Aphasia. She couldn't help but smile as she listened to Jesse's nervous babbling.

Stifling her laughter when Jesse pointed out the architecture of the house to cover the awkward silence, Quinn gathered her mushroom and tofu potstickers and made her way into the dinning room with a beaming smile.

"Hello, Aphasia."

"Hey, Quinn." Aphasia nodded, looking a little relieved to suddenly have a familiar face. "What'cha got there? I'm _starving_."

Quinn sat down the tray as Leroy and Hiram instantly sat up straighter at the first sign of food. "Just a little appetizer before dinner. Please, help yourselves."

Her fathers-in-law and Jesse made a dive while Aphasia hung back, looking slightly confused as she stared down at the hors d'oeuvre. "What _is _it?"

Quinn quickly turned away to head back to the kitchen, keeping her smile concealed: she _really _liked this girl for Jesse. She knew that she'd promised to be on her best behavior, but this night seemed like it would be rather fun. It was important to Jesse that the Berry men and Quinn liked Aphasia, therefore Jesse would be a nervous lunatic. That was super fun for Quinn.

Her phone buzzed on the countertop, and Quinn answered it happily. "I really wish you were here right now. Jesse is freaking out."

Rachel laughed softly on the other line. "Quinn, please do go easy on him."

Quinn held her cell tightly to her ear as she cupped a hand around her mouth, hoping her voice wouldn't carry into the dining room. "Seriously though, Rach, I think he's sweating."

"Will you stop that?!" Rachel laughed, louder this time. "He sounds like he really likes her. And you must know how much your opinion matters to him."

"That's what makes this so much fun." Rachel laughed freely again, making Quinn's smile soften. "I may be home as soon as Wednesday." Quinn whispered, her tone quiet for a different reason now.

"Wednesday, huh?" Rachel whispered back, getting comfy in her chair. She had finished her matinee show and was wasting time looking over the script for _A Sweetness_. Technically, she didn't need to be off-book for many months: filming for the musical-turned-movie wouldn't start until the fall, but Rachel needed to clear her head, and memorizing lines always did the trick. Until now: she couldn't stop thinking about her wife and needed to hear her voice.

"Yeah, Wednesday. I'll get in early…so…we could talk before your show?"

"I'm looking forward to it."

Quinn snorted. "Calm down, Rach, no need to jump for joy." Rachel smiled, hearing the playful tone in Quinn's voice.

"You're such a jerk, Quinn Fabray." Quinn smiled as she sighed, loving their banter. She got up to check on dinner as their conversation lapsed into comfortable silence. "I _am _looking forward to it, you know. I miss you…_terribly_."

"I know, Rach, me too." She stirred dinner absentmindedly as the doorbell rang, but hardly registered the sound. "You're going to call me after your show, right?"

"Of course. And…I thought that-well-I know." Rachel took a deep breath as she geared up for what she was trying to say. Placate her wife in some way to let Quinn know that she was ready to make their relationship completely real and serious. "I know I've been distant…and-well-what I'm trying to say is…maybe…Quinn?"

But Quinn was no longer listening to her stammering wife. She may not have registered the doorbell, however, the sound of two new voices a room over had grabbed her attention so thoroughly she completely forgot she was talking to Rachel and dropped her wooden spoon and phone.

"Uh, Quinn?" Quinn whipped around towards Aphasia where the girl was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. "Some old people are here to see you." She said, gesturing over her shoulder as she took in Quinn's tense frame and wide eyes. "Also, I think you forgot to add some ingredients in those potskickers, 'cause they didn't taste so good. Quinn? Are you okay? Your eyes are completely buggin' and you look like you're about to lose some fingernails if you keep diggin' em in the countertop like that." Aphasia slowly approached Quinn, scared the girl would snap. "And I think someone is screaming at you from your phone."

Suddenly, Quinn grabbed the front of Aphasia's clingy black strapless dress and jerked her forward until they were almost nose to nose. "Is that my parents out there?!"

Aphasia regarded Quinn carefully. "WASP-y looking types?" Quinn nodded slowly, her fear only worsening. "Look like they could drink me under the table?" Another nod. "Back catalogs of Brook's Brothers and blonde hair dye all over the house?" Quinn's grip tightened until her knuckles went white. "Quinn, I think your parents are here." Aphasia told her calmly.

"What are they doing here?!" Quinn rushed out as her face paled to chalk-white.

"I'ma guess they be here to see you, girl."

"Fuck fuck fuck, shit shit shit, damn it damn it damn it!" Quinn hissed as she finally let go of Aphasia to spin around to cling to the countertop, glancing unseeingly at the kitchen.

"Jesse's not letting them in if that makes you feel better." Aphasia told the panicking girl. She got no response. "There's a high-pitched squealing coming from yo' phone."

Again, no answer. With a shrug, the girl picked up the phone from the floor.

"Hello? Oh, hey girl, it's Aphasia. Yeah, Jesse's date. Oh, you know, it's goin'. Yeah, I remember you from high school, too: you got some pipes. Totally caught you in that badass movie where you were all crazy and ho-ing around with your shrink. Yeah, I heard about that! You best win that Oscar: but they usually give it to some old bitch that was in some boring movie about something depressing. Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah, she here. She's kinda freaking out. Hmm? Oh, her parents are here and-_okay, _you _so _did _not _need to scream in my ear like that! Talk about pipes! Okay, okay, I'll put her on. Quinn, it's for you."

Quinn ignored Aphasia's outstretched hand as she focused all her attention on the muffled voices coming from the Berrys' living room. She could faintly hear her father's voice over the thundering in her ears.

Suddenly, calm settled over Quinn in the form of Rachel's voice. Aphasia had placed her cell next to her ear so Rachel could speak to her wife. "Quinn? Are you breathing?" Rachel asked firmly. Quinn nodded in response, not ready to speak. "Who cares if they're there? My fathers will not let them in. Jesse will not let them in. You don't have to see them nor speak to them. Do you understand me?"

Quinn took a cleansing breath as she nodded, smiling slightly. Rachel was absolutely correct. They had talked about the possibility of Quinn running into her parents while in Lima. She just never considered they'd come to her. But her wife was right. There was no reason she had to see them. And she also knew the Berry men and Jesse wouldn't let them get too far. She just needed reminding. Just a small reminder from Rachel that she wasn't sixteen and pregnant or eighteen and miserable.

She was happy. Independent. Successful. In love.

"Thank you." Quinn breathed out in reply to Rachel. Rachel nodded back firmly, finally halting her worried pacing as she gripped the back of her chair. She was relieved that Quinn seemed composed, but Rachel was _not_ okay. She wanted the Fabrays as far away from her wife as possible!

"Now, what are you going to do?"

Quinn smiled at Aphasia and took the phone from the girl as she leaned back against the counter she had been bracing only moments before. Taking another confident breath, Quinn responded. "I'm inviting them to dinner."

Rachel refrained from gasping loudly and stomping her foot. She watched her emotions play out in windows before her and kept it all to herself. Instead, she merely made a humming noise that could pass as intrigue. "That's what you really want?" Rachel asked carefully, ignoring the voice in her head that was screaming her worry and anger. She also had to grip her chair tighter to avoid literally running to Lima, Ohio.

"No, that's not what I want." Quinn responded as she watched Aphasia quietly leave the room. She ran a hand through her hair and resisted the urge to look into the window above the sink to check her reflection to make sure her appearance was flawless. "What I want is to be at home, in bed, with you. Or at the theatre watching you perform." She took another deep breath. "Or even lying upstairs in bed with Jesse, for crying out loud. What I don't want to be doing is dealing with my parents."

Rachel's eyebrows inverted. She placed a finger in her ear, sure she missed what Quinn said over the loud announcement that echoed in the small room she was in. "Laying in bed…with…_who_?"

"Rach, what do they want?" Quinn asked wearily, ignoring Rachel's confusion.

Instead of answering immediately, Rachel bounded towards her bag to extract her laptop and hastily opened it. "Get on Skype." Rachel demanded.

Quinn's eyebrows flew up. "You want to Skype-sex _now_?! I thought you weren't pissed at me for that!" She whispered heatedly.

Rachel clucked her tongue as she rolled her eyes. "Quinn, I'm not initiating Skype-sex. Although, now that you mention it, would it be too much to ask if you got off your butt to retrieve the laptop every once and a while so I can actually _see _you?!"

Quinn gasped loudly. "I _knew _you were upset with me for that!"

"Get on Skype so I can attend dinner with your parents, Quinn! If you're inviting them to stay, I damn well will be there for backup and support! If they so much as backhandedly compliment you, I will go all Betty Davis in _Whatever Happened to Baby Jane _on them!"

Quinn blinked owlishly. "I don't know what that means."

"I'm going to go off on their asses!" Rachel growled. Quinn covered her face with her hand to stifle her laughter—she knew Rachel was trying to sound tough and not just adorable—and sighed heavily once she got a hold of herself.

She may have asked Rachel why her parents were there, but, truly, Quinn already knew the answer. She may have seen this coming if she had a moment to consider. Ever since she saw the man from her old church parish in the bar, Quinn figured something like this would happen.

It was simple, really. Or maybe it was just _simply Fabray_: appearances. The man in the bar that recognized Quinn most likely inquired to Quinn's parents if they knew their daughter was in town. Wanting to save face—their daughter may be a heathen in their eyes, but she was a some-what famous heathen—they probably told the man from their church that they were aware of the fact and saw Quinn from time to time, under the guise of "saving" her, no doubt. Nevertheless, they were here to keep up appearances on the off chance that one day Quinn wrote a memoir or gave an interview declaring that her parents had disowned her, not once, but twice.

It was the same reason they attended her wedding. If Quinn denounced them publicly, the Fabrays could claim that it was their daughter's unholy ways and they'd triedtheir very best to sway her back to the flock, all to no avail.

Appearances.

And maybe that was why Quinn was planning to invite them to dinner. "Once a Fabray…" and all that. Quinn knew the idea of appearances was still firmly ingrained within her. She would deny any other reason. Being disowned twice snuffed out any hope that her parents had changed their minds and could finally love her.

She would deny any other reason.

"Quinn?" Rachel sounded through the phone. "You still there?"

Quinn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm still here."

The eerie calm tone of Quinn's voice made dread flood through Rachel. "Are you okay?"

This time Quinn _did _look at her appearance through the window over the sink and deemed herself presentable. In more ways than one. "I'm just fine."

Rachel was not appeased. In fact, her fear grew. "Can I have Skype-dinner with you?" She asked tentatively.

Quinn chuckled as she took the far exit out of the kitchen towards the back den away from the living room. She quickly went up the stairs and into Rachel's bedroom to retrieve her laptop. "You can have Skype-dinner with me, yes."

Rachel accepted the small victory, but was still on guard. She was waiting for Quinn to pull away. To shut her out. To be high school-Quinn.

"Do you even have time for this, Rach?" Quinn asked calmly as she turned on her computer.

Rachel almost scoffed. "Even if I didn't, I'd _make _time."

Quinn laughed as she shook her head, allowing herself to truly smile. "Rachel, you're the Tony-nominated lead in a Tony-nominated musical; the show can't go on without you."

Rachel huffed, not amused. "_Now _you want to Skype-sex?!"

Quinn laughed louder this time, logging into Skype. "Just because I bring up your nomination _doesn't _automatically mean I'm initiating any type of sex. Also, hi!" Quinn said, smiling as her wife's face filled the screen of her laptop.

Rachel granted her wife a fleeting smile before she frowned. "Then I suggest you don't bring up my nomination: you know how much of a turn on it is. Now, tell me, how are you really?" She asked as they both hung up their phones.

Quinn's head cocked as the sound of voices grew louder: It was clear that, to the Berrys and Jesse, the Fabrays had started to wear out their welcome. Acknowledging Rachel's question and the worry in her tone, Quinn turned back to her wife and locked eyes with her. "Rachel, I'm not worried about my parents."

Rachel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You're not?"

"No." Quinn said softly as she shook her head.

"Honestly?"

"Yes." Quinn nodded. "Honestly.

Rachel was even more confused than before. "You're not going to push me away or become serial killer, high school-Quinn?"

Quinn chuckled, her eyes shining with endearment as she gazed down at her wife. "No, Rachel; I'm not that girl anymore."

Rachel nodded slowly, taking in Quinn's words and their meaning.

Quinn watched her carefully, smiling at the pout on her wife's lips. Then she took in the background behind Rachel. "Hey, where are you? That's not your dressing room."

Rachel glanced over her shoulder where floor to ceiling windows took up the space. "The bar around the corner." Rachel lied easily.

Quinn furrowed her brow, unsure. But just then, the sounds of yelling drifted up to the bedroom, distracting her. "Okay, we should really get down there before your daddy beats up my father." Quinn could hear Leroy shouting the loudest out of everyone, using his indignant voice and words far too big for a screaming match.

Rachel motioned with her hands to get a move on. "Yes, please; it would reasonably upset daddy to mess up his manicure!"

When Quinn entered the room tentatively, laptop balanced on her hand, the room became quickly silent as every head turned towards her. It was clear, even if Quinn hadn't heard the heated words that were trying and failing to remain hushed, that she had just walked into a fight: Leroy and Russell Fabray were toe to toe with their spouses just over their shoulders, with Jesse attempting to get in the middle, red-faced, and obviously trying to instigate something with Quinn's father as well.

"What's going on?" Rachel asked in a whisper from the laptop. Without a word, and barely a glance toward her parents, Quinn flipped the computer around so Rachel could see the scene.

"Dinner's ready." Quinn told the group in a forced-civil tone before heading off to the kitchen with her wife. As she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, she took a deep breath. "I'm setting the table for seven." She said over her shoulder; inviting her parents to stay without having to actually ask.

"That didn't look good." Rachel said quietly as she was placed on the countertop by the stove. "And you really should set the table for eight to be polite. Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I don't want to be included."

Quinn hummed her agreement as she gathered dinner and an extra plate for phantom Rachel, happy to have a reason to smile. She didn't really feel the need to inform her wife that adding an additional place setting was ridiculous. If Rachel wanted to feel included, Quinn was just fine with accommodating.

When she could no longer stall for time despite enjoying Rachel babbling about how old Quinn's parents looked and how confused Aphasia seemed in the background just behind Jesse, Quinn brought Rachel and her plate out to place her down at one of the two remaining seats. The group sat in a tense silence. The Berry men were at the heads of the table. Quinn wondered how upset her father was that he was placed in a lesser position, just to Hiram's left, with Judy across from him. Jesse was next to Russell, his face stony and red, with Aphasia sitting opposite. That left Rachel beside Aphasia, a request Rachel made so she could stare daggers at her father-in-law. Quinn felt quite bad for the man. But more so for Aphasia, stuck sitting between a laptop and a lush. If there was another date between her and Jesse, Quinn felt fairly certain that the two would marry: it was _quite _a bit of drama and theatrics for a first official date.

"This looks delicious, baby, you've really out-done yourself." Quinn shook her head as she smirked, setting down the main course on the table and ignoring her wife's compliment. Rachel was baiting her parents-in-law into a fight. Quinn was sure she'd be hearing a wide-range of terms of endearments and compliments from Rachel to goad the Fabrays into a confrontation. It intrigued Quinn that she was looking forward to it, not at all nervous.

"And…what exactly is this?" Aphasia asked carefully, looking at the food before her. "Like…soup…or a stew or something?"

"It's Quinn's Massaman curry, Aphasia." Rachel explained quickly and eagerly. "It's really quite fantastic. Sweet and peanutty, spicy with a tang: Quinn is an excellent cook." Rachel informed the table, looking around as best she could from the small screen as she nodded, almost daring someone to disagree, but obviously proud of her wife.

Once Quinn was finished with setting the table, she tucked her dress underneath her as she took her seat beside Jesse. Unfortunately, the years couldn't quite erase the way her body tensed up as her father cleared his throat. "I don't see any meat on the table." His tone wasn't curious, nor was it challenging exactly, just a statement. Nevertheless, it bugged Quinn. If her father had been dining anywhere else, he never would have opened his mouth out of manners.

The long silence that followed Russell's almost-question blanketed the room. Taking a deep breath, Quinn removed her napkin from her plate and laid it out on her lap. "That's because there is no meat; this is a vegan dinner. Everyone, please, help yourselves."

The dinner was a silent affair as people ate. Quinn didn't bother to look at her parents to see if they were enjoying the meal. She did, however, dote on Leroy sitting next to her. Made sure he had enough veggies. That he got a good-sized portion of water chestnuts—his favorite. That his wine was filled. That he was smiling. Certain times, whenever Quinn gave her father-in-law special attention, she'd look over at Rachel to see her wife smiling at her in a way that made Quinn forget that her parents were even there, that anyone was there.

Quinn found it valiant of Jesse to try and continue on with his date with Aphasia despite the fact that the boy seemed quite upset that the Fabrays were in attendance. When he wasn't chatting a—somehow, don't ask Quinn how it was possible—fascinated Aphasia's ear off about his career and his life before New York, Rachel was commenting on topics Jesse would raise in between complimenting Quinn's culinary abilities, appearance, personality, intelligence—whatever occurred to her wife at any given moment.

Hiram was silent as he ate. As were Russell and Judy. Leroy was only talking to Quinn. Jesse really only spoke to Aphasia, and vice versa, with Rachel interjecting to support her friend and to praise Quinn. Quinn was clinging to Leroy as she silently encouraged her wife with smiles and long looks.

Although the meal itself seemed enjoyable enough, the whole thing was a mess.

"At least you're on your best behavior." Jesse whispered to Quinn as everyone politely dabbed at their lips with their napkins, the dinner portion of the night finished.

Quinn leveled Jesse with a look she reserved only for a certain ex of hers before rolling her eyes. "I'll get dessert." She whispered softly. She felt Leroy squeeze her hand as she stood, and smiled at him, taking the strength he offered into the kitchen with her along with everyone's dinner plates.

As soon as she splayed her hands on the countertop, taking a deep, well-deserved breath, Quinn wished she had brought her laptop into the kitchen with her. She hadn't been lying to Rachel earlier when she said she wasn't worried about her parents. She wasn't.

What she was worried about, however, was her parents insulting the Berrys—all three of them. She was worried another fight would start. Quinn was worried that she'd _feel _something. That she'd realize she missed them. Or would want their approval.

So far all Quinn felt was pissed that she missed out on a whole night of making Jesse a nervous wreck.

Sighing loudly, Quinn uncovered her double "chocolate" torte and carried it into the dinning room. This time, however, while still tense, the table was no longer silent. Far from it.

"How _dare _you coming into _my _house and speak about my wife that way!" Rachel screamed from her laptop.

Judy's chest expanded. "You're not even here, and as far as I'm concerned, young lady, this is no longer your house!"

"Don't you speak to my daughter that way!" Leroy countered.

Russell glanced up from the table and down at Leroy. "You will notyell at my wife, Leroy!"

Rachel looked up in arms. "You're correct, _Judy_; this is no longer my house. But it is the house of my _fathers_, and I will not allow this insolence to continue!"

Judy's expression matched Rachel's. "Seeing as how this concerns _my_ daughter, I will say whatever needs to be said!"

"What the hell happened?" Quinn mumbled from the dining room doorway, double "chocolate" torte in hand, as she stared at the scene: her mother, standing, and leaning heavily on the table, yelling passed Aphasia at the computer screen as Rachel yelled back; Leroy, also standing, with an air of indignation surrounding him; Jesse looking bored; Aphasia, confused and slightly afraid; Russell, red-faced, yet composed for the most part; and Hiram, his hands covering his shaking head.

"What happened? Rachel happened." Jesse said with a huff.

"Rachel?" Quinn whispered to herself, beyond confused.

"I don't see how it's _any _of your business, _Judy_!" Rachel yelled. "You not only abandoned your daughter once, but _twice_!"

Judy swelled with anger. "And, yet, here I am! Trying to make an effort. And I'll be _damned _if I'm kept in the dark any longer!"

"You will have _no _say! _No say_! I don't care if I have to lock Quinn up for the rest of our lives in an effort to keep her away from the likes of you and your opinions!"

Quinn stood, mystified, as she watched her mother and wife go toe to toe…or as close to it as possible considering there was a laptop involved. Exactly how long had she been in the kitchen for that she missed all of the hoopla?!

"Jesse…what the hell are they arguing about?" Quinn asked, stumbling a little towards the table.

Jesse rolled his eyes and relieved Quinn of the double "chocolate" torte. "Baby names."

"Baby-" The words hardly made sense, until they did, and then Quinn was blanching and recoiling as she shook her way through the fog. "_Baby_ names?!"

"The Fabrays have strong names, young lady, _strong names_!"

"I don't give a flying hoot _what _the Fabrays have! My wife and I will be the ones picking names for our children!"

Quinn was so thoroughly confused. "How the hell did _baby names _even come up?!" She asked Jesse in a whisper as the boy cut eagerly through the dessert, and Rachel and Judy continued their yelling match.

Jesse shrugged, plopping a huge piece of cake onto his plate. "Your parents asked about grandchildren, Rachel filled them in on your timeline, Judy offered some names." Jesse pointed at the torte with his fork. "Is this double chocolate?"

Quinn ignored him. "Wait…" Her head did another confused shake. "_What_, exactly, is our timeline? What timeline? How could Rachel have a timeline?!"

Jesse, in turn, ignored Quinn. "This is definitely double chocolate." He moaned, Quinn only just hearing his pleased sound effects over the constant screaming of her wife and mother.

"Uh, Quinn?" Quinn's neck snapped towards a thoroughly anxious Aphasia. "Is there, like, something you could do?" She asks, arching around Judy as the woman shouted at Rachel.

Quinn's mouth opened and closed several times as her anxious eyes darted back and forth between her mother and her wife. She felt badly for Aphasia, she did, but Quinn honestly didn't even know where to start. She had never, not once, stood up to either of her parents, and Quinn knew Rachel: there's no way in hell her wife was giving up the fight, as crazy as it seemed.

Because, honestly, Quinn knew it had very little to do with future baby names and everything to do with Rachel standing up to Quinn's parents on Quinn's behalf.

The firm hand on her shoulder got her to look up. She expected it to be Leroy's, but he was still attentively listening to the argument. Glancing to her left, Jesse was leaning over his torte as though someone may come along and steal it. That only left one person.

"Why don't we go outside and let those two…" Russell gave an unsure shrug, not exactly sure what was happening.

Quinn blinked harshly as she stared over at her father. There was no warmth in his tone, only exasperation and bewilderment. It seemed genuine enough, though, so Quinn nodded and got to her feet. "Maybe you should rescue Aphasia, Jesse." Quinn hissed down to the boy before finding her wife's eyes across the table. Quinn motioned to Rachel with a tilt of her head that she was leaving. Rachel nodded quickly and headed back into the fray with Judy.

It was cooler outside than in the house. The wind felt good against Quinn's warm face, and it was only as she pulled her cardigan closer that she realized she was shaking slightly. Nervous energy. Being around her father, alone, always made her feel out of sorts, and that had only multiplied over the years, it seemed.

"Cigar?"

It felt unreal to Quinn, to be looking up at her father in that moment. That in his outstretched hand was a cigar. Without knowing why, Quinn took the cigar and allowed her father to light it. She twisted the cigar in her fingers until it was fully lit, and Russell nodded, impressed, before dealing with his own.

They stood, silently, in the Berrys' backyard, staring out at the well-groomed lawn where trees and flowers were blossoming into summer. "I find it's best to just let Judy say what she wants to say. She'll quiet down after that."

Quinn glanced up at her father. He was still looking out into the yard, apparently at ease. A part of Quinn wanted to agree, wanted to say it was the same with Rachel. The other part, a much larger part of Quinn, wanted to stay quiet. So she did.

They smoked their cigars in peace. Neither Fabray was much good at conversation—especially when Russell wasn't drinking—and after the years of frosty silence between them, finding topics of conversation proved challenging.

It did occur to Quinn that it appeared as though her mother had been honest to Rachel: they were trying. Judy was trying by being a nagging, overbearing mother-in-law, and Russell was trying simply by getting Quinn away from the carnage. For a cigar, no less. To the average person, smoking a cigar is only smoking a cigar. But to the Fabrays, it meant acceptance.

The last time Quinn saw her father smoke a cigar was at her sister's wedding. He was laughing and clapping the back of Quinn's new brother-in-law, whose name evaded her at that moment, all smiles.

The Indians won: Russell would smoke a cigar. He landed a new client: Russell would smoke a cigar. Any occasion that Russell was proud or happy to be a part of, he would smoke. The fact that he was currently smoking with his daughter was profound. It gave Quinn just the right amount of pleasure.

"Everything all right out here?" Both Fabrays turned at the sound of Jesse's voice, Aphasia at his side. Quinn nodded slowly as she watched her father stub out his cigar.

"I should go back in." He mumbled before heading for the door. Quinn and Jesse watched Russell until he was inside.

"You smoke now?" Jesse asked as he waved his hand in front of the white cloud Quinn just exhaled. "You do realize I'm going to have to tell Rachel this, correct?"

Quinn ignored him, however. Her mind was racing. Not about her parents, per se, or even about Rachel's impending lecture on smoking. "Do you think I should call Shelby?" Quinn asked suddenly, flicking her gaze towards Jesse.

Aphasia stood quietly at the door. She could tell the subject that was just raised was a serious one. Normally, she'd get out of dodge and give them privacy. However, Aphasia _really _did not want to go back into the house where all the crazy people were. So, instead, she just stood silently as she watched Jesse approach Quinn and lean against the railing, apparently deep in thought.

"I think you should discuss with Rachel the prospect of your daughter entering in to your lives. Don't you think?"

Quinn was shaking her head as she took a long pull on her cigar. "No, Rachel and I have already talked about Beth: if she wants to be a part of my life, it will be her decision when she's eighteen. I meant that I was thinking about calling Shelby for Rachel, not for me."

Jesse mulled that over for a moment. "_Why, _exactly, would you call Shelby for Rachel?"

For the first time since Jesse came back into her and Rachel's life, Quinn fully appreciated him: only Jesse could _really _understand the importance of the question. "Jesse." Quinn began, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "I just stood in silence with my father for, what, ten minutes? Those ten minutes of silence meant more to me than I can express. He was a horrible, horrible man, and yet, here I am, still craving his approval."

"And you think Rachel wants Shelby's approval?"

"You _don't_?!" Quinn asked with disbelief.

Jesse turned his back to the yard and leaned heavily on the railing, folding his arms in contemplation. He could see through the blinds where everyone was sitting at the dining room table. It appeared as though the two families had calmed down some.

"I think Rachel was just fine until she met Shelby. I think that if Shelby never interfered in Rachel's life, Rachel may not have gone looking for her. What she did to Rachel certainly changed her." Quinn nodded, agreeing. "However…" Quinn's cigar was at her side, forgotten, as she waited for Jesse to finish. "I think that this is one of those things Rachel just needs to deal with. If, at any time, Rachel would like to pursue a relationship, then so be it. Or, if Shelby tries to make contact again, we'll reevaluate."

"Jesse, Shelby's rejection has influenced her to the point where she feels like she's not good enough for me!"

He nodded, slower this time, before he straightened and look over at her. "Quinn, your parents are here. They were at your wedding. Are you suddenly going to call them weekly? Get together for the holidays?" Quinn's eyebrow rose incredulously. "I didn't think so. We all have things that have made us who we are. This is one of those things that Rachel has to get over. There is no perfect ending when it comes to Shelby and Rachel, nor you and your parents. Rachel will just have to accept the people who _are _in her life and appreciate them."

Quinn bit her lip at the truth of Jesse's words as she watched the boy head towards the door. "Jesse?" Quinn called suddenly. He turned to look at her and it was all she could do to push down her smile. "It's _Mrs. Fabray_, _not _Quinn." Jesse smirked and slid the door open.

As Aphasia went to follow him inside, Quinn made a last minute decision and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Aphasia glanced over at Quinn quizzically. "I swear to God, Aphasia," Quinn said slowly, her expression stony. "If you hurt him, use him, and/or upset him in any way, I promise as his agent, friend, and _family_, I will do _everything _in my power to see to it that your life is forever miserable. Agreed?"

Aphasia did her best not to smirk. "Agreed. And don't worry, Quinn, I won't tell him about this." Quinn nodded, thankful that it wouldn't get back to Jesse, and Aphasia went back inside, following the man Quinn was fairly certain she'd one day marry.

As Quinn continued to puff on her cigar, thinking about her wife, Aphasia took her seat at the dining room table, relieved that things had appeared to calm down. Jesse was back to eating his torte—the only reason he stopped was when he realized Quinn had left the table with her father, of all people—Russell was looking disinterested, and the Berry men, Rachel, and Judy were all hunched over where they sat, with pens in their hands hovering over paper.

"So it's agreed." Judy said, taking off her glasses as she glanced down the table where Rachel was on the laptop screen. "Russell and I get one veto over names, your fathers as well, and if the four grandparents, as a unit, all disagree, the name is vetoed."

Rachel referred to her own notes before looking up at Judy. "That is correct. For each child we have, the rule applies. However, according to paragraph four of the contract, if two or more children are conceived at a time, no additional vetoes are permitted."

Judy was suddenly smiling. "Twins runs in my family." She gushed.

Leroy was all smiles as well. "Mine as well, hot dog, _twins_!" No one brought up the irrelevance.

As Rachel ducked her head to refer back to the notes she made on the pending contract they were all writing up, Judy watched her carefully. "I suppose Quinn will be carrying first?"

Rachel didn't look up. "Why would you assume that?" She mumbled, too deep in thought to notice the look on her mother-in-law's face.

"With your career and all…" Judy mentioned as casually as possible, trying to keep the disdain form her voice. She kind of liked the idea of Quinn being a breadwinner and didn't want her giving up her fledging career so soon. And, yes, she would like another chance at being a grandmother, but if the plan was that Rachel would carry Quinn's baby and Quinn would carry Rachel's baby, she was excited to meet a little Quinn again. If her daughter was to carry first, she'd have to wait longer.

Still reviewing her notes, Rachel answered. "I was actually planning to carry first. Should we discuss holidays and visitation rights, or should we wait until Quinn's present?"

At the sound of Jesse's fork dropping, everyone turned to look at the stunned boy. Judy, however wasn't deterred, and looked back towards the laptop. "I think it would be best to discuss that now."

Rachel gave her mother-in-law a long, appraising look before shaking her head. "We'll wait." She was pretty sure Judy only wanted it discuss it without her daughter present because she knew Quinn would put up a fight having her parents in their future children's lives.

"You're willing to give up your career for children?"

For the first time since negotiations began, Russell had spoken. It was enough to garner Rachel's full attention. She looked at her father-in-law suspiciously. "Why wouldn't I? And just because I'm planning on having children doesn't mean I would be giving up my career. I love your daughter, Mr. Fabray, and I adore the idea of carrying her children. Now, I think it's best if we plunged right into…"

Everything that came out of Rachel's mouth next was lost on Jesse. He had completely forgotten about his torte. About Aphasia. About performing, even! His expression was one of shock, his mind reeling. He slid his chair back from the table with a jerk, the screeching, dragging sound drawing everyone's attention his way yet again. "I have to excuse myself." He mumbled, wiping his mouth off with his cloth napkin before springing to his feet and quickly heading upstairs.

His cell phone was ringing shrilly in his ear as he paced the guest bedroom, stunned. Did Rachel really just say what she had said? Was this really happening? He was pretty sure he remembered his friend explaining to him that Quinn being a woman made her the perfect fit for her future stardom: babies _and _career. She wouldn't have to take time off from the stage to bear children. Quinn would carry them. Suddenly Rachel was willing to potentially throw it all away?

And, furthermore, she just declared her love for Quinn out loud in front of witnesses.

As her friend, it was his duty to act. And quickly. The time had come. And Jesse would be _damned _if it went on even a day longer. He didn't care about the bet anymore. Rachel Berry was going to declare her undying love for Quinn Fabray if he had to get Barbra Streisand to force his stubborn friend to do it!

Back downstairs, everyone was enjoying coffee, tea, and lighter conversation as they continued with their talks.

"When Quinnie comes back in, I think we should talk to her about coming to stay with us for the remainder of her time in Lima, what do you say Russell?"

Well, everyone _was _enjoying themselves. Until that.

"Absolutely _not_." Three voices rang out.

Judy Fabray glanced at each Berrys unsurely. "I believe that will be _Quinn_'s decision. Right, Russell?"

"Right, dear." Russell rejoined dryly, not really into the conversation.

Rachel, not for the first time since Aphasia told her the Fabrays were inside her childhood home, felt a wave of fear collapse down on her. She knew that her wife would not want to go stay with her parents. But would she turn them down? Especially since they seemed so keen on having Quinn back in their lives, despite not being totally onboard with all of Quinn's decisions.

Rachel knew how strong the desire was for parental acceptance. And here the Fabrays were, accepting Quinn and even Rachel. Was it just for show? Would they take the first opportunity to try and brainwash their daughter away from Rachel? Would Quinn let them? And, more importantly, would they end up hurting Quinn somehow in the process?

"I think it's for the best that Quinn remains with my fathers." Rachel stressed adamantly. She was waved off by Judy.

"Nonsense, dear. It will give us a chance to catch up."

"Rachel, sweetheart, I think the laptop is dying. I may have to get the power cord." Hiram said.

Rachel shook her head, ignoring her father, too caught up in Judy's words. "Quinn is staying with my fathers!"

"We should let Quinnie decide where she wants to go."

"No, _no_! Quinn would be much happier with them!" In the background, Rachel heard a disembodied voice mumble through the intercom, getting her to curse. "Lousy timing!" Rachel said under her breath.

"Should I retrieve the power cord, darling?" Hiram asked, already rising.

Rachel shook him off and got to her feet, leaving the quiet of the small enclosed room. "Don't bother, dad, I have to go. Quinn will _stay _with my fathers, understood? It's very, very important!"

Leroy squinted at the laptop as he watched his daughter. "Rachel, sweetheart, where exactly are you? That doesn't look like your dressing room or the apartment."

"That's because I'm not _in _my dressing room or apartment." She told him quickly, lugging her bag over her shoulder and moving faster, barely balancing her laptop on her palm as commuters quickly scuttled around her. "Quinn will stay with my fathers and that's final! I will be unable to be reached for a few hours but insist upon this being adhered to or else our contract will be ripped up and all hopes of having a little _Bitsy _or _Tristin the Eleventh _will be lost forever!" Beside Rachel, the woman holding out her hand to retrieve Rachel's ticket looked at her curiously.

"Have a safe flight, Mrs. Berry." The woman mentioned, still giving Rachel an odd look.

At the sentiment, Rachel's face morphed into a wide, pleased grin. "And to you a lovely day, thank you." As she entered through the breezeway, she smiled down at her laptop. "It's always so thrilling to be acknowledged by fans."

The Berry men, Fabrays, and Aphasia gaped at her. "Rachel, where are you flying? Is it here?!" Hiram asked excitedly, Leroy lighting up at the thought.

Rachel smiled again. "Yes! But you must not tell Quinn; it's a surprise!" She then shook her head to clear it. "Now where was I? Yes, right! Quinn will not be going anywhere and no one's pet parakeet has to suddenly disappear." Hiram and Leroy both traded glances, getting the _Whatever Happened to Baby Jane _reference. "_Capisce_? Excellent. Must be off. My love to all!"

Rachel closed her laptop and smiled at the flight attendant. The man recognized Rachel instantly and personally escorted her to her first class aisle seat. "We'll be leaving shortly for Ohio, Mrs. Berry. Is there anything at all I can get you?" He asked as he stored her bag in the overhead compartment.

"I'm just fine for the moment, thank you." Rachel answered politely.

"Very well. Ring if that changes. And, if it's not too much trouble, would you mind signing something?" Rachel beamed back.

Back in Lima, as the Berry men and Fabrays looked at one another quietly, still reeling from Rachel's pronouncement, Aphasia sighed loudly as she flopped back in her chair. "Jesse seriously better be worth all this bullshit."

X

Lydia and Jeremy were asleep, dozing comfortably on their couch as Trevor snored on the floor, the TV halfway through its _Real Housewives _marathon. Jeremy jerked, fully awake, at the loud chiming of the phone.

"Tell Rachel to calm the fuck down." Lydia mumbled, nuzzling her pillow, before dropping off to sleep again.

Jeremy grinned broadly at the sight before picking up his cell. He also assumed it was Rachel, but seeing the name flashing across his screen, Jeremy beamed. "What's up BFF?"

"This isn't the time, Jer, we have a Code Red!"

Jeremy frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. "Jesse, my man, I have no idea what that is."

It was Jesse's turn to frown. He was pacing the guest bedroom of the Berrys' house, running a hand through his hair anxiously. "Code Red is what we came up with that night we made the bracelets, Jer!"

Jeremy was back to smiling. He reached over Lydia's head to grab a blunt and sparked it as he inspected the hemp around his wrist. "They're some killer brocelets, Jess."

Jesse allowed a moment in his panic and scheming to agree before he shook it off. "_Jeremy_, we have to commence with Operation Spoiler. Repeat, commence with Operation Spoiler! Where's Lydia?"

Jeremy was confused. He pulled hard on his blunt. "She's asleep, dude. And what the heck is Operation Spoiler? I thought we were doing Code Red."

Throwing his head back and groaning, Jesse prayed for patience. "They're the same-never mind, wake Lydia immediately and put her on the phone."

"You people have too many operations, man. Hold on." Jeremy mumbled as he nudged Lydia awake.

The girl blinked slowly up at her boyfriend. "Is it Rachel? Because if I have to listen to her ramble on about her stupid operation any longer-"

Jeremy was shaking his head, hand over the mouthpiece of his phone. "Nah, it's Jesse. He _is_ going on about codes and operations, though."

Lydia rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation as she sat up, ripping the phone away from Jeremy. "Look, _St. James-_"

"No, _you _look. What I'm about to suggest will have you and Jeremy, once and for all, wining _the bet_."

That stopped Lydia in her tracks. Her eyebrow slowly rose. "_The _bet?" She clarified, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice.

Jesse sighed deeply as his eyes slipped closed, feeling as though he was physically in pain. "Yes, _the _bet. I have a way for it to end by tomorrow."

Lydia was more than intrigued. "Go on." She said, ignoring Jeremy's frantic gesturing in an attempt to get Lydia to tell him what she and Jesse were discussing.

"I swear on my Queen commemorative plates that I can have Rachel telling Quinn she loves her by maybe tonight, definitely by tomorrow. All I need is Jeremy to make one little phone call." Jesse told the girl in an airy voice that did not reflect his mood.

Lydia's eyebrow went higher as she glanced over at her boyfriend who was choking on a large puff from his blunt. "_Jeremy_? Really?" She asked skeptically, unsure how her boyfriend could pull off something so seemingly impossible—although how, Lydia wasn't sure; those two girls were really fucking dramatic when it came to telling one another how they felt.

"I swear." Jesse confirmed.

"Your commemorative Queen plates _and_ $500?"

Jesse's eyes slipped closed again as his jaw tensed. He cursed at himself under his breath for ever allowing the cash prize to get that high. "_Yes_." Barely slipped out between his teeth.

Lydia's smile curled as she stared at a nervous looking Jeremy. "What does he have to do?"

Jesse took a deep, calming breath, allowing himself to revel in the feeling. How essential he was to the plot. He was fulfilling the key role in every rom-com he had ever seen: he was going to save the day and push the two unwilling lovers together, finally, and, in doing so, become a romantic hero selflessly. He could practically picture Quinn on her knees, weeping her thanks.

X

The thin, balding man beside Rachel on the plane glanced her way as her cell phone started playing _Hits from the Bong_. She smiled sheepishly at him as she extracted her cell from where she stashed it.

"We'll be taking off in a moment, Mrs. Berry." The flight attendant told her from the front of the plane, a few feet away.

Rachel nodded to the man. "This will only take a second." She said before answering her phone. "Jeremy? Is everything okay? You didn't lose a dog, did you?"

Jeremy bit his lip, holding the script Lydia and Jesse had written up a little higher to read. "Hello, Rachel." He said before clearing his dry throat. "Hello."

Rachel's eyebrows furrowed at the slightly off tone of Jeremy's voice. "Hi, Jer? Is everything okay? I'm on the plane and we're about to take off." Jeremy was the only one who knew that Rachel was flying to Ohio to surprise Quinn. She knew that Lydia would spill the beans and she still wasn't speaking to Jesse, so when she started putting together her operation to declare her love to Quinn, Jeremy was the only one privy to all the details.

Jeremy spared Lydia a nervous look, but the girl waved him off, silently telling him to go with the script. "Everything is just fine, Rachel. Hey, I have something very important I have to tell you."

Rachel's confusion doubled as she listened. Jeremy sounded as though he was reading from a script—very poorly. "_Oookay_? What is it, Jer?"

"It is about Quinn. And your relationship." Rachel had no idea why he sounded so formal, so serious.

"What about Quinn?" The man sitting beside Rachel looked her way once more so she lowered her voice. "And our relationship?"

Jeremy cleared his voice again, gripping the notebook he was reading from tighter. "I was talking to my BFF Jesse earlier this morning, and he mentioned that Quinn was spending a fair bit of time socially with Noah 'Puck' Puckerman." Jeremy glanced up at Lydia when she slapped his shoulder. "What?!" He asked his girlfriend, rubbing at his sore shoulder.

"You sound like a freaking idiot! Be more casual!"

"Jer? Are you there?" Rachel asked.

"Uh, yeah." Jeremy answered, unsure how to come off more like himself when reading lines. "Um…anyway. Jesse and I got to talking, and I found myself concerned with the amount of time Quinn seemed to be spending with her…" Jeremy quickly searched his vocabulary for a more casual-sounding word than acquaintance. "…baby daddy."

Rachel blanched at the term. It had been a long time since she had thought of Puck in that way and was surprised Jeremy knew about Beth. "Well, Jeremy, Quinn is helping Noah with his business. They _are _friends, after all." The flight attendant motioned to Rachel it was time to hang up, the plane's engine rumbling louder. "Look, Jer, I really have to go-"

"They had a sleepover!" Jeremy finally shouted, sensing it was best to cut to the chase. Lydia threw her arms up in exasperation. She wasn't completely sold that Jeremy was the right person for this job, but Jesse did have a point: if Jesse delivered the news, Rachel probably wouldn't believe him, thinking he was being overdramatic or paranoid as usual if she even picked up the phone to speak with the boy she was still fighting with; and Lydia would never have made the call to Rachel even if Quinn _was _having sleepovers with Puck, her allegiance being to Quinn. Jeremy was neutral.

Rachel absorbed the information slowly. "Be that as it may, Jeremy, I still don't believe there is any cause for concern. I trust Quinn. And I trust Noah…mostly." Rachel conceded.

"So Quinn told you she had a sleepover with Puck?" Jeremy asked.

Lydia frowned at him. "That's not on the script!" She demanded, reaching out to grab the phone from him, Jeremy jerked out of the way and scrambled to avoid her.

"Well…_no_, Quinn didn't tell me. But we're not required to tell each other every little thing. I'm sure it was harmless and innocent." Rachel finished with a decisive nod. "Look, Jeremy, I really do have to go. Was there anything else?"

Jeremy, now with a flailing Lydia on his back, trying and failing to take the phone from him, was struggling to come up with a way to drive the point home to Rachel. "Rach, I think something's going on between them. I talked to Quinn the other day and she mentioned that she had missed Puck and was enjoying hanging out with him and other stuff that sounded weird."

Rachel gaped soundlessly for a moment. Quinn had made it quite clear to Rachel that, while Puck had changed a lot, she was still more than annoyed dealing with him so frequently. So why had her wife told Jeremy something different? Was she lying to Rachel to spare her feelings, worried that if she told Rachel she was enjoying Puck's company Rachel would become jealous or insecure?

"Mrs. Berry?" Rachel glanced up at the flight attendant at her side. "I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to get off your phone." The man winced, clearly uncomfortable having to ask.

"Of course, yes." Rachel answered him in a voice devoid of emotion, still faltering over Jeremy's news. "I don't want to be another Alec Baldwin. I apologize." She told the man, getting him to smile and head back to the front of the plane. "Jeremy, I must go. I'll-I'll speak to you later."

"Rachel, wait!" Jeremy said, all to no avail: Rachel had hung up. Lydia slowly slid down her boyfriend's back, looking pissed.

"You completely butchered that! Now Rachel will _never _tell Quinn she loves her!"

Jeremy blinked slowly at his girlfriend, clearly confused. "_That's _why I was calling her?! I thought I was supposed to be making her jealous!"

Lydia shook her head at him. "Jer, why the hell would we want that?!"

"Well I don't know! I wasn't listening when you guys were hatching this stupid evil scheme!"

Lydia huffed loudly. "The whole point was to get Rachel to declare her love so we'd win the bet!"

It was Jeremy's turn to huff. "Lydia, what the hell do you think Rachel's operation was about? She's on her way to Lima right now to declare her love to Quinn!" Lydia's eyebrows inverted and she stared owlishly up at her boyfriend. "Duh, Lyds!"

"Shit!" Lydia cursed, thinking about all the harm they could possibly have caused. "We got to call Jesse!"

Rachel turned her phone off and sat quietly, hands in her lap, as she mulled over everything she had just learned. She then turned to the man next to her. "I apologize for that." The man barely spared her a glance. "My silly friend was just being paranoid or something." She said with a laugh, still believing that everything was fine and all a miscommunication. "Must be all the pot he smokes." She told the disinterested man at her side. He gave her an awkward smile and went back to his book, the plane beginning to taxi. "Jeremy is just being ridiculous." Rachel sighed. She rested her head back against her seat and closed her eyes. The flight would take a little over an hour. Just enough time to wind down and run through her checklist for her big operation. It was expected to be a peaceful flight.

But of course, it wasn't…

Rachel had her head bent over her notebook of ideas for her operation reviewing everything she had planned. A row over and behind were two women quietly chatting. When Rachel first boarded, she had noticed their curious glances and dismissed them with a quick smile. But their soft voices were reaching her now, and Rachel's ears perked up at their discussion.

"Did you _see _that piece of trash? I always thought Meryl had better taste than that. Completely shocking!"

"That film was _dreadful. _No way will she win the Oscar." Rachel bit her lip as her head cocked to the side as she listened.

"Better Meryl than that Winslet girl. Worst performance I've ever seen."

"Terrible lesbian, just terrible. She won't win the award." Rachel swallowed thickly and glanced over her shoulder to see the two older women with their heads closely together, sharing the latest _Entertainment Weekly_.

"When I took Morty to see the Helen Mirren picture, do you know what he said? 'Worst British accent I've ever heard'." Both women roared with laughter. "I said 'Morty, she _is _British!' He didn't believe me!"

Rachel felt her heart begin to race. "Excuse me?" She asked softly, leaning over her armrest to better address the two women. They looked up at her in surprise and smiled.

"Yes, dear?" Morty's movie date asked.

"I couldn't help but overhear your discussion on the Academy Awards." Both women nodded eagerly and Morty's movie date showed Rachel the magazine. There, on the glossy page, was a picture of herself filling the entire space, beaming back. It looked as though the picture was taken at Sundance; that felt like a lifetime ago.

"Me and Betty think you're a shoo-in!"

"_Entertainment Weekly _agrees!" Betty supplied.

Rachel shook her head as she tried to make sense of everything. "Wha-what about Judy Dench?!" Rachel asked desperately, suddenly very nervous.

The two women shared a chuckle and an eye roll. "Complete crap in that movie!"

"May I see that magazine for a moment, please?" Rachel asked worriedly. The women passed it over and Rachel quickly read the article that basically summarized everything Rachel had just overheard the two women saying.

When she passed the magazine back, Betty winked at her. "Congratulations, honey!"

Rachel gave the two women a weak smile and a small thank you and turned to face forward. Suddenly an anxious mess. The plane hadn't even reached Pennsylvania, and Rachel's dramatic side was starting to rear its ugly head. The man beside her, obviously avoiding Rachel's panicked eyes and loud, uneven wheezing, was little to no use to the girl. She quickly hit the flight attendant's button five times before her new friend showed up, just as she felt a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead and the back of her neck.

"Mrs. Berry, are you all right? You don't look so good." The flight attendant said as he took the empty first class seat the aisle over from her as Rachel guzzled the water she had.

No, Rachel was _not _all right. Between the news of the Oscars, Jeremy's phone call, and her discussion with the Fabrays, Rachel was suddenly feeling claustrophobic. "I apologize profusely; I'm just going a little crazy right now and if I don't talk it out I may lose my mind!"

The flight attendant smiled and nodded. "I took two semesters of drama my sophomore year of college: I understand the process."

Rachel exhaled loudly. "Thank God; a fellow thespian!"

He smiled back and nudged Rachel's knee with his own. "And _family_. So what can I help you with? Having trouble with a part? A character's back story not making complete sense to you?"

Rachel seized on the convenient cover story. "Yes! _Exactly_! I have this new part I'm researching, unsure if I will accept it unless I find the motivation behind the character's actions."

The man grinned. "_Spill_!"

Rachel carefully looked around the plane. "This won't keep you from your job?"

The man waved the idea aside. "How often do you get to sit down and talk to a Tony, Golden Globe, _and_ Oscar nominated actress?! Dante will cover for me. Now tell me everything!"

Rachel would have liked to start with freshman year of high school, but the flight was only an hour. So, instead, she dove into what she knew from Jeremy's phone call, assuring Andrew the Flight Attendant that Quincy's love for Rebecca was real. She, of course, threw in some other troubles: Quincy's parents who longed to keep he and Rebecca apart, the job offer to a far-away shore that would cement Quincy's title as a powerful prince, and how Rebecca and Quincy had deceived the kingdom into thinking they were in love so that Quincy could escape his king and queen parents, and Rebecca could rise up from the destitute life she lived.

Andrew was a fabulous audience. But he asked too many questions. Regardless, Rachel made a mental note to meet with Ainsley about her epic tale: she was quite pleased with the story she fibbed.

After Rachel reached the part about the court jester's warning letter, cautioning Rebecca about Quincy's ex, Noel, she sat quietly, hands on her lap, as she awaited Andrew's verdict.

"That was beautiful." Andrew whispered as he wiped his eyes clear of tears.

"Thank you." Rachel amended with a slight bow of her head.

"How does it end?" Andrew asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, how does it end?" The balding man beside Rachel asked, book forgotten on his lap.

Rachel threw up her arms. "That's it, I don't know! They're still working on the ending and they need my insight." She lied easily.

"I think Rebecca should ignore the jester's warning. He doesn't _really _know Quincy and Rebecca's love." The balding man stressed earnestly.

Andrew nodded reverently. "I agree with 4A."

"Oh, sorry, Fred." Fred introduced himself, leaning passed Rachel to shake Andrew's hand.

Once introductions were made, Rachel was back to panicking. "I agree that Rebecca should ignore the warning from the jester. But what about the king and queen? What about the job offer to distant shores? What about the evil curse-"

"What about the love between Rebecca and Quincy?" Was asked just behind Rachel. As she, Fred, and Andrew turned, 5C popped her head up over Rachel's seat. "Isn't it obvious that they are madly in love? What's taken Rebecca so long to say how she really feels? Quincy is the perfect man, she should go ahead with her plan to declare her love."

"I agree." Fred interjected.

"Me too." Andrew rejoined.

"So do me and Betty!" Rachel glanced back at the two women she spoke to earlier. All around her, Andrew and the other passengers started talking earnestly about the love between Quincy and Rebecca. How silly it was that Rebecca hadn't told the man how she felt. What was wrong with Rebecca? Why couldn't she open up? Why couldn't she say what was so obvious?

Rachel's hands covered her face for a moment as she took a deep breath and blocked out the voices around her. She had a plan. An operation. She knew the story. Knew how she wanted it to end.

So she ignored the conversations going on around her. She dismissed Jeremy's phone call chalking it up to Jeremy being too high to function. She disregarded the Fabrays, Puck, Conduit's Californian job offer to Quinn, the Academy Award nomination—she overlooked it all and just thought about her wife.

Her Quinn.

Flashes of everything, big and small, exploded behind Rachel's closed eyes, past and present. The two of them together, through everything.

When Rachel's eyes finally fluttered open, Andrew was back at the front of the plane, speaking through the intercom, telling everyone to return their trays to the upright position and fasten their seatbelts.

She wouldn't be in Lima for another hour and a half. But at least she knew how the story would end, how she was determined for it to end, even if the odds seemed against her…

X

In Quinn's humble opinion, Jesse St. James was the biggest ass that ever lived. She was pacing the guest bedroom with Jesse pacing opposite.

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" Quinn asked for perhaps the hundredth time. And just like all the other times, Jesse winced.

"I said I was sorry." He mumbled pathetically.

"You just _had _to get involved, didn't you? You just _had _to scheme and plot and put your special brand of Jesse St. James flair on this! I _told _you that I could handle it! I _told _you that Rachel and I would be fine! But _nooooo_ you just _had _to swoop in and ruin _everything_!"

Jesse halted his pacing to fold his arms across his chest and glowered at her. "I said I was sorry."

"Yeah, Jesse!" Quinn turned to face him, seething as she stared him down. "That doesn't change the fact that you've probably scared her away! She's going to jump right back on a plane and retreat back to New York, ignoring my phone calls and freaking out!"

Jesse stared at the carpet as his mind raced. "How was I supposed to know that she was on her way here?! How was I supposed to know that she had some big operation planned?!"

Quinn turned away, running a frustrated hand through her hair. "It didn't concern you, Jesse. You had no right-" Quinn cut herself off, too angry and too scared to continue on. She visibly deflated and sank down onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. "Can you just not be here? Can you just go?" She asked without looking up at the boy.

"Should I go to Rachel's room or leave the house?" Jesse asked softly.

Quinn tiredly rubbed her face and sighed deeply, ignoring him, and went to Rachel's bedroom where she closed and locked the door. Her parents had left a half hour ago. The Berry men had already cleaned up and retired for the evening. She was exhausted.

Her parents had not gone quietly into the night. It took Quinn far longer than she would have liked convincing them that she was fine at the Berrys', and that she would stop by before she left to go home to New York. Her parents' car was barely out of the driveway when Jesse came to find her, Aphasia in tow, explaining about the phone call he had received from Lydia, and everything Lydia and Jeremy knew about Rachel's operation. It was hardly the way she wanted to end her day.

With the stress of dealing with her parents still weighing on her, Quinn would've liked nothing more than to crawl into the bath to soak while she chatted with Rachel—via phone or Skype, either would do. For now, a shower would have to suffice.

As Quinn stripped off her dress, the sound of the front door closing had her hurriedly moving to the window to look out onto the street. The silhouettes of Jesse and Aphasia crossing the lawn towards the girl's car made Quinn's heart drop, hoping against hope that it had been Rachel.

All she wanted was Rachel. The one person she probably _wouldn't _be seeing or talking to. Quinn turned the water all the way to hot, desperate to burn her anger and sadness down the drain.

Waiting for Rachel Berry to admit how she felt had been easy for Quinn most of the time. She never felt impatient or frustrated. It was clear in everything Rachel did that she loved Quinn.

It really had been easy.

But, suddenly, with everything that had happened in the last hour, Quinn didn't want to wait another minute to hear her wife's voice, her declaration of love, _something _that would make Quinn believe that everything would be okay. To feel Rachel's arms around her, holding her tightly, lovingly, the way only Rachel could, and the way only Rachel had.

No one had ever held Quinn before Rachel. Even prior to New York, in high school, only Rachel Berry had managed to make Quinn feel safe, feel accepted, just _feel_. And, now, with the uncertainty of everything, she felt the confrontation with her parents' fully. Things that hadn't even bothered Quinn previously felt like mountains.

Quinn rested her head against the cold tiles of the shower as she turned off the blistering steam. She sniffled once and dragged her hand against her eyes before stepping out to wrap herself in a soft towel. Through the steamed mirror, Quinn appraised her appearance and took a deep, calming breath. It came to her then that it would be okay. She would return to New York early and drag Rachel Berry back into her life. Maybe she had been going about everything all wrong. Maybe she shouldn't have been so patient. She should have told Rachel that she loved her sooner. After all, _Quinn _was a big part of the reason Rachel had hurt so often in high school and even later. There were scores of reasons why Rachel could doubt Quinn, to be wary and tentative. How could she have married Rachel and not have told her she loved her? How could she have made love to her without looking deeply in her eyes and admitting what she knew to be true for so very long?

Yes, Quinn knew what she had to do. And she would do it right away, no more wasting time. She'd have the Berry men ship her things back to New York; packing took too much time, as well as checking baggage. She'd hurry into Rachel's bedroom, throw on whatever would cover her up, and race to the airport, wet hair and all.

So, without further ado, Quinn ripped open the bathroom door, and came face to face with her wife.

For a moment, neither Rachel nor Quinn breathed as they stared at one another. Rachel watched Quinn's chest start to heave under her towel, up to her parted lips, to the swirling emotion in her wife's hazel eyes. Quinn's gaze chased each freckle on Rachel's face, and absorbed every emotion that flicked as Rachel looked at Quinn with so much pain it caused Quinn's heart to clench.

For a moment, Quinn felt like she was looking at a stranger, unsure of what was to come. Until Rachel's eyes filled with tears, and she sank to her knees with a shuddering gasp unlike anything Quinn had ever heard.

Quinn was struck as she watched Rachel sob into her hands, her small body shaking with the force of her tears. She held her towel close to her body, ready to offer whatever Rachel needed, but wary of what was about to come out of her wife's mouth.

With a trembling breath, Rachel spoke. "I'm _so_ sorry, Quinn! So, so sorry!" Quinn started, unsure of where it all was coming from. What the apology meant. Rachel looked up at Quinn then, lowering her hands to show her sorrow. "I'm so sorry." She stressed softly, eyes stinging from still unshed tears.

Quinn swallowed with difficulty. Her body was tense as she breathed shallowly. She couldn't look away from Rachel, down on her knees, quietly crying. She had missed her. _God_, Quinn had missed her wife, her best friend, the love of her life, her Rachel. Everything felt surreal. Moments ago, Quinn was more than ready to board a plane to find her. But Rachel had found her first, and she was crying. Was it because she was about to pull away? Separate herself from Quinn completely?

Quinn braced herself and tried to remember to breathe. She tried to form words as she looked down at her sobbing wife. Wanted to ask if she was okay. Ask what Rachel was sorry for. She was struck completely silent as the weight of her love and the realization settled heavily, truly feeling how great the loss would be if Rachel was to leave her.

It had been a long road to this moment. For both girls, but even more so for Rachel. She had frantically left the airport without her bags. Agonized over what she'd say on the cab ride. Tried and failed to rehearse because the desperation felt too profound for words. And, as she looked up at Quinn, she felt her heart seize out of love and devotion and the very real fear that capsized as she wondered if it was already too late.

"_Quinn_." Rachel whispered brokenly, shaking for so many reasons. "Quinn. _Quinn_, please don't ever leave me."

Quinn felt her body jolt forward at Rachel's plea, almost as though everything within her fought to prove otherwise before Quinn even gave herself permission to comprehend what Rachel was asking. She stopped herself, however, before she fell to her knees to take Rachel into her arms. "I-"

Rachel only cried harder, but she shoved it down so she could get what she wanted to say out. What had taken her almost two years to get out. "You deserve more than this." Rachel said as she stared up at Quinn, trying to make her understand. "I wanted more for you than this. Because I _know _how amazing you are, Quinn. I've known for…for_ever_! I saw it in that scared girl who seemed so _lost_ and I see it now; I see it even more now, Quinn. I see _you_."

Quinn forced herself to swallow this time, frozen at everything she was hearing as her heart pounded absolutely. Trying to make sense of the tone, the meaning, what would follow. "Rachel-"

"And I'm sorry." Rachel said in a choked gasp that mixed with her sobs. "I'm sorry that I didn't show you more. I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you more often how much it meant to me. How much _you _mean to me. How you changed my life and put me back together and gave me reasons to feel and succeed and you just gave me reasons, Quinn! You gave me everything, Quinn Fabray, and I never let it in because I was so, so scared that I'd lose you. That by me being me it would mean I would lose you one day. That I would cast you in a role just to not be so alone. Or feel something that I was terrified to feel. Or to be the fool who only imagined perfection. Because I know what we have is as close to perfect that can ever be and I'm _constantly_ terrified that it can't be real because it's _me _who is feeling it.

"But it was never you, Quinn. I _see _you. I _know _how astonishingly remarkable you are and the woman you've become. And I'm so sorry that I couldn't let that in. That I couldn't feel it entirely. But I want to change that. I want to change because I'm so tired of being scared of what I feel for you. You have to believe me. I'll do _anything _for you to believe me!"

Quinn did fall then. Her knees gave out and she was kneeling in front of Rachel, staring at her wife with watery eyes. "Rachel-"

Rachel cut her off with a shaking of her head. Her eyes slipping closed as tears leaked. As she trembled, Rachel's eyes opened and she glided her hands and fingertips up Quinn's bare arms until she was cupping Quinn's face. "I told myself so often that I couldn't love you. That you'd never be mine. In the beginning it was to protect myself. Later because I never thought it could be true, that you would never be able to feel the same." Quinn's breath caught as she bit her bottom lip, aware that she was crying. She shook her head to dismiss Rachel's words, but Rachel ignored her. "Now…" Rachel softly stroked Quinn's soft cheeks and wiped the tears away with a small, pained smile. "I was so scared that if I said it, that if I told you how I feel, that it would become real and all this would go away."

Quinn gave a nod of understanding, the vision of her wife blurry through her tears. "Rachel, I-"

Again, Rachel shook her head. Quinn fell silent, unsure of what to do or what to feel. Mostly, what she felt was elation that Rachel was _right there_, in arms' length. She felt relief. Wonderment. Love. Hearing Rachel say those things, not only about Quinn, but insight into how Rachel saw everything, made Quinn cry harder. Made her love Rachel harder. Made her heart throb with her adoration.

Rachel's gaze dropped, but her hands stayed softly cupping Quinn's face. "You make it impossible not to love you, Quinn Fabray." Quinn made a noise of protest, and Rachel looked up at her sharply. At the sight of the emotion pouring from Rachel's stare, Quinn felt her heart jump. "Do you have any idea-if I could make you see-" Rachel cut herself off and gave a raw, watery chuckle before focusing fully on Quinn. Her tears came faster than before. "_Quinn_, I will do _anything _to prove to you how _extraordinary_ you are. I want to do anything and everything. I've been racking my brain for the last…_year _to try and be the person you deserve. And I won't stop. I'll never stop trying to come up with ways to be that person for you.

"I know who I am. I know how I can be. But I want to change that, Quinn. _I'll be_ whatever you need me to be. _I'll_ _do _whatever you need me to do. We can move to California so you can take that job. I can be your secretary. I'll call clients and stuff envelopes. I have no problem with putting my career on hold so you can truly start yours. I'll do all the cooking; I'm getting fairly good. I'll do all the cleaning and will continue to do the laundry. If you want to start another dog walking company in California, I'd be more than happy to walk dogs for you, you wouldn't even need to pay me! I want to do this for you, Quinn. I'll be your biggest fan. I'll go to board meetings with you and Hollywood parties. Hold your purse as they take pictures of you, and smile the _entire _time because I'm so exceptionally _proud_ of you, Quinn! I want you to have everything you ever dreamed of and then stay up all night with you so you can come up with new dreams to achieve!

"Let me show you, Quinn. Please, Quinn, let me show you how much I love you, because I do. I love you so much, Quinn. I love you! I love you so much that I can't be scared anymore, because every moment I don't tell you I love you feels like a wasted moment and I don't want to waste _any _more time. We've already wasted so much time. Let me prove to you that I can do this. I can _do this_, Quinn. You just can't leave me!"

Quinn's body was shaking with the force of her sobs. She took Rachel's hands from her cheeks and covered her eyes with them, letting her own tears pour into Rachel's palms. She held them there, finding comfort in touching Rachel, her soft skin, her scent, and tried to wrap her heart around the words and love pouring from her wife.

With an almighty breath, Quinn lowered Rachel's hands from her face and held them in her lap as she took in the magnificent sight of her wife. "Rachel-"

"You don't have to say anything yet." Rachel said, tripping over each word through her tears.

Quinn squeezed the hands within her own as she shook her head, smiling brilliantly. "Will you shut up." Rachel's jaw snapped shut, and her lips disappeared as she refrained from saying more. "Rachel Berry." Quinn began in a whisper. She felt tears rolling down her chin and falling onto their joined hands. "There has been exactly _one _person my whole life that ever believed in me. Exactly _one_. One person that has always been there for me no matter what. That has encouraged me and made me feel as though I was special. That I was beautiful inside and out. That made me see that I could become something. That I could become whomever I chose to be and accomplish whatever I wanted. That I _mattered_.

"How could you _ever_ believe that you haven't already shown me, Rachel? I am who I am _because of_ _you_. And you give me this confidence without even trying. You're always unassuming, you've never judged me. You've always looked at me as though you were waiting for the next amazing thing I would accomplish. In high school, now, always, you constantly are reassuring me."

Rachel forced herself to listen. To accept. To soak in the words and believe them. And she _could_ believe them. She felt them. The way Quinn was looking at her. How carefully she was touching Rachel. Everything that had happened the last week, month, year—lifetime—together. All of it felt like a beginning to this very moment.

Quinn squeezed Rachel's hands again, compelling Rachel to understand. "You were always the better person, Rachel. Always. And the fact that you wanted me in your life, offered your friendship, came back for me and brought me here, gave me control of your career, trusted me with it, encouraged me to make more of myself, allowed me to love you and trusted me with your heart…_Rachel_, I love you! I have _always _loved you. I loved you in high school, I loved you when I kneeled in this very room and poured my drunken heart out to you, and I've loved you every single day since, only _more_. Because you gave me the chance to see _you_. And I do see you, Rachel. I saw the pain you've had to deal with, and every day I try to heal it bit by bit like you've healed me. And _I'll _never stop trying either. Because I'm not going anywhere. Do you hear me, Rachel Berry? I'm not going anywhere! I'm too selfish. I want you for the rest of my life. I want _us _forever. I'll be _your _biggest fan. Forever."

Rachel's body heaved as she absorbed the credence of Quinn's words. She never, in her whole life, felt so full of love and joy. She was crying again, out of happiness and relief, from the promise and their future. Quinn loved her. She was looking at Rachel and telling her how _much _she loved her.

It was Quinn's turn to wipe away Rachel's tears. She did it carefully, tenderly, with a loving smile that made Rachel move closer to her wife. She slid a knee between Quinn's and squeezed the hands holding her own.

Quinn took advantage of the closeness and rested her forehead against Rachel's. "I want to stay in New York." Rachel's breath caught and released in a comforted sigh. "I want to see you on that stage every day and night." Rachel chuckled, more tears falling; Quinn swiped them away with an even bigger smile as she continued to whisper. "I want to watch you take the world by storm. I want to be next to you and be there for you and thank you every day for making me into someone that Rachel Berry can love. We'll do it all together. Whatever happens next, we'll do it together. _We'll be _unbelievable. _We'll be _perfect. Because _we'll be together, _and happy, and in love."

"But what about your job offer, Quinn? I can't let you give that up: it means too much to you."

Quinn's eyes fell closed as she gently placed a kiss on Rachel's cheek, getting Rachel to whimper. "I don't want the job, Rach. I don't want it. I want what we have already."

"What will you do? They could blacklist you."

Quinn tilted her head and placed a kiss on Rachel's other cheek. "I don't care about that. If it's something you're concerned about for your own career—"

Rachel was shaking her head, her hands racing back up Quinn's arms until she was cupping her wife's neck. "No. No, I don't want you doing anything you don't want to do. You're right; we'll figure it out. My career is the last thing I'm worried about."

"We've already got this far without them." Quinn was smiling as she tilted her head again, this time placing her lips beside Rachel's ear. "My little Tony, Golden Globe, and Oscar nominated superstar."

Rachel giggled, realizing that Quinn was flirting with her—if the sultry tone of her wife's voice was anything to go by. "Well, I've had years of training."

Quinn's deep, rumbling laugh echoed softly in Rachel's ear. "I love you, Rachel."

"Oh, God, Quinn, I love you. So, so much."

"So much." Quinn echoed softly, her smile pressed against Rachel's cheek. "Are we going to talk about your Oscar nomination?"

Rachel huffed as she leaned forward, burying her face into Quinn's bare neck. "Let's not ruin this. How about we talk about getting you out of this towel instead." Rachel purred, her hands poised at the opening of the terrycloth covering Quinn.

Quinn laughed louder this time, halting Rachel's hands to move them down to her hips. "I'm on to you, superstar." Quinn taunted, her eyebrow jumping playfully. "You're not getting out of the conversation this time."

Rachel sat back on her heels with a _humpf _and a pout. She crossed her arms for good measure, but it was hardly effective because of the way her eyes danced over Quinn's half-dressed body.

Quinn's fingers took a hold of Rachel's chin until Rachel was looking her dead in the eye. "This is because of the curse, isn't it?" Rachel pouted harder as she looked away from Quinn's smile. "Rachel?" Quinn asked in a teasing tone, removing the distance Rachel had just created. "Rachel?" she repeated again, her lips on Rachel's neck. "Is this about the curse?" Rachel's eyes slipped shut as she inhaled sharply. She felt Quinn's breath tickling her earlobe. "Is it?" Quinn asked again, but she already knew the answer because of her wife's sudden silence.

"I'm not being silly." Rachel answered firmly—or as firmly as she could considering what Quinn's tongue was doing to her.

"I never said you were."

Rachel _humpf_'dagain. But again, it was ineffective: her hands were currently slipping underneath the hem of the towel that sat high on Quinn's thighs, neither girl able to remove their hands from one another.

"But…you are being a _little _silly."

Rachel pulled away harshly, her eyes almost as wide as her gaping mouth. "How _dare _you say that, Quinn Fabray! Take it back!"

Quinn giggled, moving forward until Rachel was forced down onto the floor. Quinn hovered over her, a predatory smile stretching wide. "No."

"How can you even _say _that?!"

Giggling mischievously, Quinn ducked her head and returned to her previous work: sucking and kissing Rachel's neck.

Rachel tried her best to focus. "Luise Rainer! Vivian Leigh! Joan Crawford! Bergman! Liza!"

"_Mmmhmm._"

It was proving a difficult task, this focusing business. Rachel's eyelids fluttered as she clamped down on her moan. Breathlessly, she tried to continue. "Helen Hunt. Emma Thompson. Nicole Kidman."

"She doesn't count because no one would want to stay married to Tom Cruise."

"Fair enough." Rachel groaned, her toes curling. "Susan Sarandon. Gwyneth Paltrow. Julia Roberts. Charlize Theron. Hilary Swank."

"Did you seriously memorize the list?" Quinn asked in between sucking, leisurely working her way up to Rachel's jaw.

"One must…one must _know _these…these things…_oh god_." Rachel moaned, her hands reaching out to twist in Quinn's towel. "God, I love you! Halle-Halle Berry. Um…Reese Wither-Wither-Wither_spoon, Jesus, Quinn_. Sandra Bullock, Kate Winslet, and Natalie Portman is now with that woman!" Rachel quickly rushed out before jerking Quinn's chin up to connect their lips.

They had shared passionate kisses. The first passionate kiss took place in that very room only a foot away. Throughout their two years together, they had shared many more passionate kisses. But this kiss, they would later both agree, was by far the most passionate. Because their passion wasn't born out of lust or experimentation. Alcohol infused or fearful. This kiss was pure love, the realization that the other loved them absolutely, and that they were brave enough to welcome it.

Quinn knew that Rachel enjoyed when Quinn sucked on her bottom lip, and Rachel knew that Quinn loved getting her tongue sucked. As they moaned into their kisses, Rachel hastily disrobed Quinn and ran her hands against the pale skin quite earnestly.

They had missed one another. In every way. It would be a very, very long time until they spent another night away from one another.

Quinn lay naked atop Rachel, panting, whispering and declaring her love. But before other more pleasurable matters could be addressed, Quinn wanted to deal with the topic at hand.

"You do know that the curse doesn't apply to us, correct?" She asked breathlessly. Rachel was currently massaging the small of her back, but her hands didn't seem to be content with their present terrain: ready to move onto a more southern locale.

"I think it's time that _you _be quiet." Rachel rushed out before wrapping her lips around Quinn's earlobe.

Disentangling herself from her wife's impressive assault, Quinn stared down at Rachel affectionately. "Rachel, just because _some _Best Actress winners' relationships failed after receiving an Oscar, doesn't mean _all _of them are doomed to the same fate."

Rachel brushed Quinn's wild, tangled hair out of her wife's hazel eyes. The action caused Quinn to connect their lips in a quick, soft kiss. "Sixty percent of Best Actress winners' relationships fail after winning the award, Quinn!" Quinn giggled and kissed Rachel again, despite her wife's continuous tirade. "Sixty-one percent after 1993!" Another giggled kiss. "The curse is _real_, and I for one don't want to win if it means I lose you!" Rachel got out against her wife's mouth.

Quinn smiled fondly, propping herself up to better view her wife. "So, assuming this curse is real, you'd rather never win an Academy Award if it meant we'd be together?"

Rachel's eyebrows furrowed deeply as she gazed up at her wife. "Quinn, I'm in love with you; yes, I'd rather have you than some award." Quinn smiled as she shook her head. This was a very un-Rachel comment to make, and it further cemented the knowledge that Rachel wholly and truly loved her. "Besides…" Rachel continued, her dark hair fanning out around her on the soft carpet, her eyes, for the first time in a while, not on Quinn. She appeared somewhat sheepish. "It just means I can't win a Best Actress Oscar…I can still win for Best Supporting, or Best Original Score, or-"

She was cutoff by another kiss. This one lasting far longer than the rest, reminding Rachel that she had a naked Quinn Fabray on top of her, and the conversation should have ended a while ago.

But, alas, Quinn didn't seem to be in a rush to get to the fun stuff. She pulled away and pointedly looked down at Rachel. "Don't you think, after _all _we've been through, that we can easily kick the crap out of that curse?"

Rachel stared up at Quinn, mesmerized and lightheaded from just having Quinn's tongue in her mouth. "We _have _been through a lot." She mumbled, distractedly, her hands again skating down the pale, naked back.

"We have." Quinn confirmed with a nod.

"And we do love each other."

"We do."

Rachel sighed contentedly. "Immensely."

Quinn ducked her head until she was buried in Rachel's neck. "Immensely." She repeated in a whisper. "Nothing will change that. Not an ex boyfriend, or my parents, distance, or a curse."

"That's right." Rachel conceded in wonder, taking Quinn by the cheek to gaze in Quinn's eyes. "We'll be fine. Nothing can keep me from you."

"Nothing." Quinn agreed as she lovingly ran the back of her fingers down Rachel's cheek. Her lips drifted towards Rachel's until she was breathing softly against Rachel's mouth. "Now take me home."

_One Year Later…_

Quinn Fabray was surprised that she had agreed so easily. It may have had something to do with the fact that she had learned from past mistakes. It may have had something to do with the fact that Rachel had asked so, so, _so_ nicely. Telling Quinn that it would be a way to clear the air, quiet the rumors, and a lovely excuse to brag. It certainly didn't hurt that it would make Quinn more money. Regardless, she found it fairly easy to say yes.

It all started with a favor from a friend. Kurt Hummel's _New to New York _hour-long show was projected to be a hit. And it was. The show followed the twenty-something new-to-New-York gay, single man around the city, exploring the up-and-coming, investigating the unexplored, and sprinkling his own brand of special Kurt-ness on everything he tried.

It was a reality show darling.

But, with sweeps-week coming up, Kurt wanted to do something different, something "classy," something Barbra Walters-esque. So he called his friend Rachel Berry and asked to interview her.

Naturally, Rachel agreed. She was, after all, quite the darling herself. Because of her wide-spread fame, interview requests were pouring in from all different arenas, but given the unique nature of her and Kurt's relationship, she trusted him far more than any of the other calls she had received.

The challenging part was getting Quinn onboard. Because, Kurt said, it was one thing to land the "incomparable" Rachel Berry—that would give him quite a bit of cred—but it was a whole different animal to also acquire an interview with the elusive Quinn Fabray.

Kurt thought he was a flat-out genius and a rather fantastic wordsmith how he persuaded the happy couple to agree to the sought-after interview. Really, though, Rachel was just looking for a reason to have an interview with her wife, and having a friend conduct it, made it all too easy for her wife to consent—the lingerie and fulfilling a few of Quinn's scandalous fantasies certainly helped.

The fact that Quinn was billed as an executive producer on _New to New York _didn't hurt, and once Kurt ran the idea passed Charlene Swain, it was as good as gold. Kurt, Charlene, Rachel, and Quinn all sat down and mapped out questions. Quinn, of course, demanded that a certain level of privacy would remain. Just because she agreed to an interview didn't mean all topics were open for discussion. She'd play her part, smile for the camera, hold Rachel's hand, and be on her best behavior.

She should have known that it wouldn't have played out like that. Not with Kurt and Rachel at the helm.

"So, Quinn…" Kurt said with a beaming smile, hands folded on his lap, his one leg kicking out in his excitement. They had already reviewed Quinn and Rachel's relationship, their careers, and other boring topics the public were previously familiar with. This portion of the interview was something he and Rachel cooked up when Quinn wasn't looking. "Tell me about your birthday party."

Rachel's lips immediately disappeared as she tried to hide her smile. Holding Quinn's hand in her own, she could feel her wife tense. Kurt remained quiet as he waited for her answer.

"It was nice, thank you." Quinn responded slowly, a fake smile resting on her lips as she mentally plotted the murder of Mr. Hummel.

"I'm happy to hear that." Kurt said calmly. He glanced down to his notes, for no reason but to draw out the dramatics, before glancing back up at Quinn. "My sources tell me you received a celebratory lap dance for the occasion. Care to share?"

Quinn forced a stiff smile and squeezed Rachel's hand tightly; Rachel quickly looked away to refrain from laughing. "By 'sources,' Kurt, do you mean _you_?" Quinn all but hissed.

Kurt offered a faux sympathetic smile in return. "I cannot reveal my sources, Mrs. Fabray." Quinn's eyebrow slowly rose, but she figured she'd have to answer now.

"I would hardly call it a lap dance." She scoffed, her eyes rolling.

"A woman sat on your lap while she danced. What would you call it?"

Quinn's eyebrow rose to alarming heights as she stared down her friend. "The _woman _was my wife, and it was innocent! For crying out loud, my _parents _were there witnessing along with fifty-some people. It was hardly scandalous."

Rachel chuckled softly as she recalled the aforementioned lap dance. It really _had _been innocent. It was merely a rib at Quinn, a delightful way to embarrass her wife, all while sharing an inside joke with her.

_Fifty-seven of their closes friends, past and present, with co-workers and family mixed in, gathered in The Plaza Hotel. Rachel had booked it a year in advance, wanting to give her wife a luxurious birthday celebration that had (almost) everyone in the world she cared about in attendance. _

_The evening had been festive but low-key, just as Quinn wanted. The food was perfect, the venue (of course) exquisite, and the company had Quinn laughing and entertained for hours. _

_After the two-foot red velvet (vegan) cake was cut, Jesse took Quinn by the hand and led her over to the chair in the middle of the dance floor with a smirk. Quinn did not like that smirk, but she sat all the same. _

"_All right, ladies and gentlemen." The DJ announced in his mic. "We have a real treat for you, so gather around the birthday girl while Mrs. Rachel Berry gives a performance of a lifetime!" _

_Naively, Quinn thought Rachel was about to sing a song. Perhaps an original number that she had been working on. But when the DJ started playing Foxy Brown's _I'll Be_, Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy all had to hold Quinn down to keep her in her seat with Rachel danced in her brown, slinky dress she wore for the occasion. _

_Russell Fabray averted his eyes. Judy Fabray waved her arms in the air and danced as she sipped her Manhattan. Ainsley and Charlene Swain rapped along to the lyrics. And all their friends from Lima, New York, and everywhere in between, crowded around to watch Rachel sit astride her blushing wife, beaming as she promised Quinn: "I'll be good." _

Kurt smiled at Quinn before giving the camera a flirtatious wink_. _"If it wasn't scandalous, Quinn, why were you blushing so hard during, and why are you blushing so hard now?"

Quinn refrained from rolling her eyes at the rhetorical question. She merely fixed another smile on her face. She knew Kurt understood by her expression that he better move on quickly.

"Let's switch topics for a moment." Quinn only tensed further, not enjoying Kurt's sudden gleeful smile. "How about we address all those cheating rumors." Quinn was definitely going to kill him.

But, of course, this only made her wife excited. "Oh, yes, can we?!" Rachel asked, bouncing in her seat happily.

Kurt laughed and nodded. "I'm assuming you have something you'd like to share, Rachel?"

Rachel beamed at the camera and, in turn, at Kurt. "The very first time I read a tabloid accusing me of cheating…" Rachel's eyes slipped shut as she inhaled deliciously. "It was thrilling."

Quinn shook her head as she smiled. Only her wife…

_Quinn had been in meetings for most of the morning. She was working hard trying to get her new entertainment agency underway, and was speaking to several of the Swains' contacts to try and, not only cement herself in New York's entertainment industry, but also try and reach out to other media sources. She was learning a lot. _

_When she stepped out of the Swains' apartment building, she was greeted with a horde of photographers and, even more unexpectedly, her wife. _

_She had only caught the end of whatever Rachel had been saying, but the paparazzi were laughing loudly, and Rachel was beaming. "Rach…hey?" Quinn said uncertainly, eyeing the camera crews and photographers. _

_Rachel beamed, and, without warning, a magazine was thrust in Quinn's face. There, on the glossy cover, was a picture of Rachel looking mischievous. "I'm cheating on you, Quinn, how crazy is that?!" More laughter echoed around her. _

"_Wait…what?!" Quinn asked in confusion. Rachel pushed the magazine in Quinn's left hand and securely took the right within her own. She started walking down the block, Quinn, and the paparazzi, trailing. _

"_I was doing some shopping with Jesse earlier today at that cute little consignment shop ten blocks from the apartment. You know, the one with that couch you won't let me get?" _

_Quinn glanced over her shoulder, very aware that they were still being followed, and tried to catch up with whatever her wife was talking about. _

"_Uh, yeah. The one with the feather boas out front?" _

"_Exactly." Rachel confirmed. Quinn looked down at the magazine in her hand and finally read the title caption: _Rachel Berry Stepping Out! "_Anyway, when we were leaving, I saw this magazine at the newsstand! Isn't it amazing, Quinn? I've really made it now!" _

_Quinn's lips twisted as she tried to make sense of it all. Suddenly, she stopped walking, effectively rooting Rachel in the spot next to her. "Oh my God." _

_Rachel smiled widely. "I know!" _

_Quinn turned to her wife and smiled. "Rach, there's a cheating rumor about you!" _

_Rachel jumped up and down before throwing herself in Quinn's arms. "And it's with the newest _It Guy_, Quinn!" _

_Each paparazzo furiously captured the moment, all shaking their heads at Rachel Berry's behavior. She was, by far, their favorite celebrity to follow. But we'll get to that later. _

_From that day on, both Quinn and Rachel enjoyed keeping a tally of the different cheating accusations made from all different sources. The scoring was tricky. It depended on how famous the other person was, the notoriety of the source, and how much publicity it received. _

_Perhaps it was a tad unorthodox to celebrate cheating rumors. But both Quinn and Rachel were of like minds: there's no such thing as bad publicity. And besides, they were exceptionally secure in their relationship. If people were going to attempt to tear what they had down, they might as well try and have fun with it. _

_There were a few times, however, when the game was less_ _fun… _

_Rachel was at home, sipping tea, reading over a script Quinn had given her a few days before. Rachel wasn't completely sold on the idea of being in a Blockbuster film, but her wife pushed, so Rachel decided to at least give it a read-through. _

_She had just gotten to the part in the script where her character, some evil, badass villain, started fighting with the "good guy," when Quinn burst through the door. _

"_A _reality _star?! They have me cheating on you with some _reality star?! _Are you freaking kidding me?!" _

_Rachel hid her smile in her script and ignored her wife. She had seen the tabloid earlier that day and laughed in anticipation. _

_Quinn had had lunch with Serena Woodsgrove two days earlier. Serena, fresh off her fantastically trashy reality hit _Gold Rush, _had requested to meet with Quinn in the hopes of making the fledgling manager slash publicist slash agent her representation. Quinn only took the meeting because she didn't want to get a bad reputation of blowing off potential clients. But she had no desire to take on a client that had become famous because she was the trashiest _not_ winner on a show about being a gold digger. _

_Throughout the meeting, Quinn got the feeling that Serena had been coming on to her. Even if Quinn _hadn't _been happily married, she still would have been wary of the woman—she was on a television show about being a _gold digger!

_Now, as she studied the close-up shots in the magazine of her and Serena sharing lunch, she realized she was being played. The girl clearly wanted it to seem as though her and Quinn were sharing more than _just_ a meal. Serena probably tipped off the paparazzo, hoping he would snap the vague pictures, eager to circulate rumors. _

_Rachel continued to study her script as Quinn flopped down on the chair beside her. "This is complete bullshit! This rumor just _cost _me points! You just totally took the lead!" _

_Rachel couldn't contain her excitement any long and let her script drop to the table. "It sure does! I _told _you my cheating rumor with Christopher Plummer was going to have me pulling ahead!" Rachel cheered. _

_Quinn rolled her eyes as she lounged back in her seat. "You, completely drunk at a party, draping yourself allll over that poor man, should hardly put you in the lead!" _

_Rachel gasped. "Quinn, we sang a _duet _together. And not just _any _duet-"_

"_Making an eighty-something year old man, who didn't even freaking sing in the movie, perform _The Sound of Music _with you while you danced around, _scarcely_ qualifies. You were _begging_ for the tabloids to pair you two together!" _

_Rachel shoulders dropped as she gave her wife a concerned smile. "Quinn, it's not my fault that our chemistry was so profound he was quoting as saying that 'If _The Sound of Music _was filmed today, not _only _would I have beaten Julie Andrews out for the part, but I would have made the Captain a much more interesting character.'" Quinn rolled her eyes again. "We danced the _Ländler _for crying out loud. We had a connection." _

_Quinn got up from her seat and promptly trashed the magazine with the pictures of herself and Serena, before breezing passed her wife on the way to the bedroom. "Rachel, the fact that you ship yourself and an eighty year old man together, worries me beyond belief." She said before shutting the bedroom door, rather harshly, in Rachel's opinion. _

_Rachel sat alone in the dining area as she thought about her night with the Captain and what her wife just said, and then called out to her. "So does this mean we're not doing another duet of _The Lonely Goatherd _before sex?" _

_There was a long, quiet pause. Until Quinn opened the bedroom door. Rachel smirked and hopped to her feet, already warming up her voice. _

"So, let me get this straight." Kurt said with a slow smile. "Not only do you not mind the cheating rumors, you encourage them?"

Rachel bobbed her head earnestly, her wide eyes bright and serious. Quinn just rolled her eyes. "You have to understand." Quinn began, looking almost put-out by the question. "We're always together. There's never a night we don't spend with one another. The idea that Rachel could be cheating on me…" Quinn chuckled quietly and slid her arm over her wife's shoulder. "Rachel just doesn't have the time." She finished with a shrug.

For her part, Rachel leaned into her wife with a bubbly smile, confirming Quinn's comment. Kurt was bored. "And you, Quinn? Would you have the time? I mean, I must agree: if Rachel isn't performing, she's practicing. What about you? You have clients. You have business elsewhere. What's your excuse?"

Quinn granted him a thin-lipped smile. "You sound like you meant to say alibi." She said dryly.

Kurt knew damn well that neither Quinn nor Rachel would ever cheat on each other. He just wanted to play the bad guy to show the American people that it was true. "I'm just saying Quinn, being too busy to cheat? Sounds a little unromantic, wouldn't you say?"

Again, Quinn offered a shrug. "I'm busy when Rachel's busy. If she's practicing, I'm watching. If she's performing, I'm there supporting. The same could be said for my 'clients,' or 'business elsewhere.' We travel together. We usually meet with clients together. What can I say?" Quinn drawled, skating her hand down Rachel's shoulder to her arm until Rachel reached up to lace their fingers. "We like being around one another."

Kurt was even more bored. "But, surely, there are times when, even if you're _together_, _someone _tries to make a play?"

Rachel's lips disappeared once more to conceal her smile. Quinn, however, didn't bother masking her stretching grin, evil and wicked as it were: she couldn't help it when the memory hit…

"_But we need to get rid of these clothes, Quinn! Now that this place is officially ours, we need to start acting like grownups!" _

_Quinn smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not getting rid of your high school clothes. I'm not. And you can't make me." Quinn whispered in challenge. _

_Quinn and Rachel had just recently finalized the sale on their apartment, officially making it _theirs; _a project they started on as soon as both Quinn and Rachel returned from Lima—only a short month prior._

_Now that they owned their home, they wanted to change some things. With the changes came more changes. Out with the old and in with the new. Expanding their bedroom closet was the first item on the list, and Rachel was tired of seeing the trash bag-full of her old things take up space. _

"_You're being ridiculous." Rachel said through a smile. "I don't wear them anymore." _

"_Maybe you will." Quinn retorted, imagining her wife dressed up as High School Rachel. The scene played out in Quinn's head quickly, with both of them acting like their high school selves, until High School Rachel was seducing her. Maybe they'd pretend to be in glee club, after hours, at the school. Quinn may have to dig up her old Cheerio uniform…it sounded ridiculously hot to Quinn, and she was already planning a trip to McKinley to act the scene out. _

"_Quinn! You're not even listening!" Rachel shrieked as she took in Quinn's dazed expression. _

"_No, I'm not." Quinn stated defiantly as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm too busy picturing you in these clothes and having a lot of sex with you. So no, Rachel, you can't throw them away." _

_Rachel's eyebrow popped as a smirk took over. "Oh really?" She asked as she advanced on Quinn. _

"_Yeah, that's right." Quinn mumbled as she leaned down, biting her lip slightly as she eyed Rachel's mouth. _

"_Well that's too bad, Fabray, cause I'm not keeping them. I don't wear them anymore!" _

_Quinn was smiling smugly for a moment before she slipped out of her t-shirt. "Then maybe I will." Rachel laughed wildly as she watched Quinn stuff a particularly Rachel-like sweater over her head. Her wife was already wearing a pair of pink booty shorts that belonged to Rachel that declared _Diva_ on the ass. She looked like a very glamorous dork, and Rachel enjoyed the view. _

"_Perhaps we could keep these clothes for a little longer." Rachel hummed as she slowly approached her wife. _

"_I knew you'd see things my way." Quinn purred back as she ran her hands down the pale blue sweater. "Rachel!" Quinn screeched out in laughter as her wife tackled her into the closet. They both tumbled down onto a trash bag full of Rachel's old things, laughing as Rachel lay on top. _

"_Tell me more about what you were picturing." Rachel breathed out against Quinn's lips. _

"_I think it requires a Cheerio uniform, too." Quinn whispered back as she brushed her lips against Rachel's. "Something tells me if you put that on, things will get very, very interesting." She purred as her hands ducked under the tank top Rachel's was wearing, unexpectedly picturing their roles reversing: Quinn in Rachel's old clothes, with Rachel in a Cheerios uniform. _

"_I like the sound of this. You should probably keep going." Rachel husked as her voice caught, Quinn's hands finding her breasts. _

"_It would be my pleasure." Before their lips could meet, however, the doorbell sounded and they both groaned as Rachel buried her head in Quinn's shoulder. _

"_I would rather appreciate people not visiting us. I have half a mind to tell all our friends to just go to hell." _

"_Agreed." Quinn panted. "I just need you." _

"_Mmmm, I love you." Rachel moaned as she sunk her teeth into Quinn's neck. "Now, tell me, how do you need me?" _

_Both girls groaned again when the doorbell sounded once more. "I need you to hold that thought, my love, and we'll get right back to it." Quinn breathed out before shimmying away from her huffing wife. For a third time, the doorbell rang and Quinn grumbled as she made her way out into the living room with Rachel trailing her. _

_Quinn smirked at the door as Rachel blew her a kiss from the couch and returned the gesture before swinging open the door. Rachel couldn't see who it was, and really didn't care, but instead flipped on the TV as she waited for her wife to return. _

_As Quinn took in the form in front of her, she realized it wouldn't be quite as soon as she had hoped before she was back underneath her wife. Although not happy with the realization, she did manage to muster up the brightest smile she could as she lazily leaned against the doorframe. _

"_Well, hello there, Finn." It wasn't really a matter of if, but when Finn Hudson would find himself in New York City and at their door. Quinn guessed it had something to do with the fact that their old friends were filtering in and out of their city somewhat frequently now, and Finn felt left out. It really was just a matter of time. And as always, Finn's timing was horrendous. Quinn wanted back on her wife. _

"_I wanna see Rachel." Finn stated, staring her right in the eyes with his fists clenched before glancing over her shoulder, trying to see into the apartment. _

"_Fantastic." Quinn beamed back. She kept her eyes on the boy though. "Rachel," Quinn called out in a sing-song tone. "It's for youuu!" _

_Inside the apartment, Rachel frowned as she muted the television. _Okay, so let them in, Quinn_, Rachel thought. If there were such a thing as having better manners than Rachel Berry, Quinn Fabray would have them. Okay, so Quinn knew a little better than Rachel what constituted what one does at the right place at the right time. So Quinn not inviting someone into their apartment was suspicious. Quinn knew all of Rachel's friends and coworkers—old and new—and had met the Berry family tree. What was left were people from their past—again, Quinn knew all of them—and people in the industry. Quinn dealt with people in the industry, Rachel did not. So who the hell could be at the door and why wasn't Quinn inviting them in? _

_Then the answer hit Rachel, and she clucked her tongue as she rolled her eyes. _

_Quinn was rhythmically drumming her nails on the doorframe as she smiled up at Finn. He tried to stare back at her stoically, but all he managed was to look daft, in Quinn's opinion. But she wouldn't move until her wife answered. _

"_It's for me?" Rachel called back from the couch as she continued to flip through the channels, in no rush to get up. _

"_Yep!" Quinn answered with another smile up at Finn. _

"_Well who is it?" Quinn chuckled when she heard the smile in Rachel's voice. _Oh, she knows who it is, _Quinn thought, her smile turning devious. _

"_It's your ex boyfriend." Quinn answered, her voice going up an octave in sarcasm that Finn would most likely miss. _

_Inside the apartment, Rachel chuckled softly. "Which one?" _

_Now it was Quinn's turn to chuckle. She knew what Rachel was doing. Obviously, if it were Jesse, he'd already be in the apartment annoying the crap out of Quinn. Puck would have called. Who else but Finn could it be? _

"_It's the one we both dated." Quinn answered, throwing a wink to Finn in the process. His jaw clenched tighter. _

_Rachel was trying her hardest to keep her laughter down. She needed to clamp both her hands over her mouth to stifle the noise. When she could finally control her breathing, she yelled back, "Which one?" _

_Quinn ducked her head and bit her bottom lip hard to avoid laughing in Finn's face. She was pretty sure he could see her body shaking with silent laughter though. "Rrrachel!" Quinn squeaked out playfully, schooling her features into a more somber expression as she rolled her eyes at Finn, as though she was appalled at Rachel's behavior. "Honestly, Finn, I apologize. I don't know what's gotten into her. Over her shoulder she yelled at her wife. "It's Finn, Rach. Now stop being rude. The boy has traveled so far to see you!" _

"_Okay! Just let me put my clothes back on!" Quinn tucked her lips into her mouth to, again, avoid laughing in Finn's face. She knew her wife was rolling around on the couch in silent laughter, very proud of herself for the remark. But Finn was not amused. His jaw clenched tighter as he appraised what Quinn was wearing: they were obviously Rachel's clothes; that was clear even to someone as oblivious as Finn. _

_Rachel quickly wiped the stray tears that had fell from her laughter before she shut off the TV and took a deep, cleansing breath, getting into character. She swept to Quinn's side, smiling brightly as she leaned against the doorframe. "Helloooo, Finn, what a pleasure to see you!" _

_At her side, Quinn was smiling just as widely as they both looked up at the boy. Finn was a little taken aback at the warm greeting from both of them, but he recovered quickly until he was just smiling down at Rachel. "Hey, Rach." _

"_Hello." She sang out, still grinning. They all stood there in silence for a long moment until both Quinn and Rachel's smiles faltered briefly. Was he planning on speaking? "Was there something we could help you with, Finn?" Rachel asked politely. _

"_Yeah…actually…there is. Could I, like, maybe speak to you alone, though?" His eyes darted to Quinn briefly before returning to Rachel. Her brow was furrowed as she appraised him. _

"_I don't think that-"_

"_That's a lovely idea." Quinn interrupted her wife. "Why don't I get you both a glass of cold lemonade and you two can catch up?" Finn's face brightened momentarily, but Rachel's face darkened as she caught Quinn's eyes and grabbed her wrist softly. _

"_Now, Quinn, I think that's a very bad idea." Rachel said slowly, her eyes bearing into her wife's. _

"_You do?" Both Quinn and Finn echoed. _

"_Yes I do." Rachel said firmly to Quinn before turning to Finn. "Yes I do, Finn, because as my manger, agent, and publicist, Quinn must be present for everything I do or I would be reneging on my contract. Isn't that right, Quinn?" _

_Quinn stared down at her wife as she tried not to laugh. "Yes, that's right, Rachel. Our contract. How silly of me to have forgotten." She turned back to Finn and smiled sympathetically. "It's in the contact. Sorry, Finn. I sometimes forget about that silly thing, almost as though it's not even real." She and Rachel shared a haughty laugh before slowly spinning back to Finn. _

"_Anything you'd like to say to me, Finn, you must say in front of Quinn." She and Quinn simultaneously nodded, as though it was as serious as cancer, and Finn slowly nodded before he readjusted his stance, as though he was preparing himself. _

_His eyes briefly shut before he opened them, first looking at Rachel, before he glanced back at Quinn in challenge. "That's fine. It's best if she hears this." _

_Quinn gestured over her shoulder. "Should I be taking notes?" Rachel's tongue quickly darted out of her mouth as she ran it over her top lip to prevent herself from smiling. The sarcasm was once again lost on Finn. _

"_No, I think you'll remember-"_

"_Oh, Quinn, that reminds me." Rachel said, cutting Finn off as she snapped her fingers; she really only just remembered what she needed to tell Quinn. "In an hour I have to run to the Laundromat to pick up your outfit for your meeting." Quinn's eyebrow quirked as she stared at her wife; Rachel was being serious for a moment, and Quinn allowed her body to relax as she tried to remember what she had laundered. _

"_For what?" _

"_Your meeting with Delilah." _

"_No, I know what meeting you're talking about, but what did you take there? My black dress?"_

"_Well…"_

"_Well, what?" _

"_I may have picked you up a new outfit to take for the meeting."_

_Quinn smiled shyly, pleased. "You bought me something?" _

"_Well…don't be mad," Quinn's puzzlement deepened as Finn's eyes went back and forth between the pair. "But I may have seen the most perfect thing when I was walking Rumpy the other day and couldn't stop myself!" Quinn's smile slid off her face. _

"_You got me a pantsuit." She deadpanned as she crossed her arms against her chest. _

"_Now, Quinn, I compromised! It's not a pantsuit, but a _skirt_ suit. Still feminine, but professional and quite sexy if I say so myself and-" _

"_Rachel," Quinn whined as her shoulders slumped. "I do not want to wear a suit of any kind! It's so predictable!" _

_Rachel folded her arms across her chest as she frowned up at Quinn. "How is it predictable? It's a skirt, not pants!" _

"_Because! Half of my success is based off the fact that everyone thinks I'm a pushover with my sun dresses and cardigans. It lulls them into a-"_

"_False sense of security, I know, I know! You've said so a hundred times!" _

"_Then what's the problem?!" _

_Rachel sighed deeply. "The problem is that I think that you look quite dashing in a suit and I found the perfect scarf to go along with it in order to make it even more-"_

"_Your fetishes have no place in a boardroom meeting, Rachel Berry!" _

_Rachel gasped loudly. "My fetishes! Quinn Fabray, I'll have you know that my 'fetishes' are usually-"_

"_Rachel, I know what your fetishes are, I've known you long enough." Quinn said through a grin. _

"_Fine." Rachel conceded as she swept her bangs across her forehead. "But this conversation isn't over and you will be in that skirt suit, scarf included, if you know what's good for you." _

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah." _

"_Hey!" Both girls jumped simultaneously at Finn's loud yelp as Rachel went to close the front door over. They had both completely forgotten about him. _

"_Finn! I'm so sorry." Rachel apologized, placing a hand over her heart out of shock. _

_But Quinn was bored, already through with playing the game on Finn and now eager to be alone with Rachel and her fetishes. She rolled her eyes and went to make her escape, but Rachel's soft hand clamped over Quinn's wrist to prevent her from leaving. _

_Rachel really didn't feel like dealing with Finn either, but if she had to tolerate him, she at least wanted something pretty to look at. Something pretty was Quinn. And plus, she and her wife were both so witty together and had the perfect bantering rhythm; it could make Finn's appearance interesting and bearable. _

"_I'm deeply sorry about that, Finn. Sometimes I get so caught up with Quinn that I forget myself." Quinn rolled her eyes and sucked on her teeth sharply at Rachel's shameless plug of their relationship. "Now, what was it that you came here to discuss?" _

_Finn nodded, pleased that the girls were finally paying him attention. It had been so weird watching them speaking back and forth. It was just like high school…only…different? But now that he had the floor, his face darkened as he took out the rolled-up magazine he had stowed in his back pocket. "I came because of this." He grumbled angrily as he thrust the magazine toward Quinn. _

_Quinn smirked before clearing her throat to hide her slip-up. The cover of Black Curtain magazine with Rachel on the cover stared up at her. Beside her, Rachel colored dramatically as the memory of catching Quinn post-masturbation flooded her mind. "Am I led to believe you came all this way for me to autograph this for you, Finn? Honestly, you could have just sent it in the mail."_

_Finn's face contorted heatedly. "No, Rachel! I came here because you shouldn't be doing that stuff!" _

_Rachel's face scrunched up in confusion. "Appearing on magazine covers?" _

"_Posing like—like—like you did!" Finn shrieked. "Guys at the garage have you pinned up on the wall! They, like, say stuff to me about how I let you get away, and if you were their girl they'd never let you pose like that! But Quinn does?! How don't you see how messed up that is?!" _

_Rachel paused and scratched her nose as Quinn idly flipped through the magazine. How come she didn't originally see the article claiming new vegan recipes? She was already itching to try them out for Rachel. _Oooh chick'n scallopini with wild mushroom risotto, _Quinn thought excitedly, _Now why didn't I think of using the chiffonaded basil with—

"_She's not even listening!" Finn screeched suddenly. Quinn whipped her head up to find Finn glaring at her. _

"_No, go on, I'm listening." Quinn mumbled as she flipped the page. _

"_You'll have to excuse Quinn." Rachel said, running a lovingly hand across Quinn's back. "She's just distracted by the recipes She loves to cook, and she's magnificent at it." Rachel stressed as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Beside her, Quinn beamed as she continued to search new recipes. _

"_Well…she shouldn't let you do that stuff. You look…slutty or something." _

"_Yeah, Rach, stop posing like that." Quinn mumbled before pulling her eyes away from the magazine to look up at Finn. "Okay? I told her. And she listens to everything I say because I control her. So, we good here? You can go now?" _

_Finn crossed his arms over his broad chest and frowned. "No, I'm not going yet. I came here to talk to Rachel." _

"_You want her back, and you're going to try and take her to Lima with you?" Quinn asked off-handedly with a flick of her wrist before turning to Rachel. "Did you need help packing, Rach?" _

_Rachel had a faint smile on her face as she shook her head at Quinn's baiting. "Doesn't she have a lovely sense of humor, Finn?" _

"_Aw, Rach, you're the funny one." Quinn beamed back just as brightly before turning to Finn. "It really makes complete sense why you'd want Rachel back. She's the whole package." _

"_Quinn, you're too kind. And a liar. When everyone standing here knows that it's you that's the real catch. Finn, seriously, you should stay for dinner. Quinn's cooking is truly out of this world. Our first night here she made me the most amazing baked ziti with roasted vegetables. And it was her first time cooking vegan. Just superb!" Rachel gushed. "But she'll only make it on anniversaries because it's a 'special' meal." She explained with an eye roll. _

"_Rachel, stop. You are the most kindhearted person that I've ever met. Finn, listen to this. I'm leaving this meeting and it's raining so ridiculously hard, I mean, torrential downpour! I'm about to make a mad-dash out of the building where the town car I called was waiting, when all of a sudden, this pink blur comes shooting out of nowhere, head to toe in rain gear, brandishing an umbrella. The men I was in the meeting with were so jealous because their wives didn't even bother showing up. But here was my wife, holding an umbrella over my head to guide me to the car. Not even concerned that her pink slicker hat was half drowned." _

_Finn's face was scrunched up in confusion as he watched the pair. _

"_Where would I be without you, Quinn? In Lima, Ohio, also known as nowhere, that's where. You inspire me every day. Every time I'm on stage I feel your presence and it makes me give so much more of myself. Finn, she goes to every show, every show! She knows it means the world to me and she's there, front and center, every time. Seriously, who wouldn't want a woman who is so supportive?!" _

"_Rach, come on!" Quinn stressed, blushing brightly. She turned to stare at her wife, suddenly glad to have an audience to gush about Rachel to. "How could I not be at your every performance? You give so much of yourself up there that I'm constantly in awe. Talk about magnificent, you lay your soul bare for everyone to see. You are so unbelievably talented and it's so effortless that it's impossible not to want to be around that all the time. Finn knows what I'm talking about, you remember her in glee? And trust me, she's only gotten better." _

_Finn was ready with a comment this time. He had seen both Rachel's movies, and even a bootleg copy of _Wink and a Nod. _But he was cut-off by Rachel. _

"_But the way you are with people, Quinn, the way you assert yourself. How personable you can be. Charming. You can adapt to any situation with a plethora—that means 'a lot', Finn—of different types of people. You're just so smart that you can easily slip into any situation. That's an invaluable quality. A quality that is so obvious by how you have gotten me to where I am now. And furthermore, it's self-evident in your business, _both _businesses-"_

_Quinn was laughing as she shook her head at Rachel. "Rachel, you can bring a whole audience to tears!" _

_Rachel huffed loudly, ready to change the subject. "Finn, I'm not exactly sure what I'll do about it, but I feel as though I should warn you that I won't be at all cross with you if you choose Quinn. So, if you're here to win the heart of a woman, I suggest you pick Quinn over me: she is the perfect woman." _

_Quinn scoffed loudly and turned to look at the deeply confused boy still standing in the hallway. "I'm a bitch, Rach. Right, Finn? I'm a bitch. You're the sweetest person I've ever met, Rachel! He should obviously pick you." _

"_I'm a diva, Quinn. Finn knows. Remember all those storm outs? I would do them all the time if Quinn wasn't there to prevent them. It's because she's the perfect woman, that's how she prevents my diva storm-outs." _

_Quinn was shaking her head, not at all appreciating Rachel putting herself down. If there was a diva in their relationship, Quinn felt quite certain it was herself. "Just stop, Rachel. I make a lot of money. Finn, honestly, could you date a woman who makes substantially more money than you?" _

"_Substantially means a great deal more, Finn." Rachel supplied with a smile. _

"_Yes, thank you, Rachel. I make a lot more money than Rach, and I think we all know that that would bother you, Finn." Quinn mentioned delicately, shooting him a careful smile. _

_Rachel threw up her arms at the well-placed argument. Finn, indeed, looked as though that piece of information upset him. "But you can do your job anywhere, Quinn. Sure, it involves travel, but with me, Finn, you'd have to live in New York City. And there aren't many mechanics around here because no one really drives. So what would you do in New York? Nothing, that's what. You'd be a freeloader, and we both know how delicate your male ego is." Finn's brows furrowed as he thought that over, not happy with the thought. "At least you could go back to Lima with Quinn. And, Quinn, didn't you once tell me how you longed to be in real estate?" _

_Quinn allowed a small smirk at her wife before schooling her features again to look up at the boy. "That _is_ true; it's always been my dream to sell houses in the booming Lima real estate market. But just think of all the crap I'll put you through, Finn. I mean, not only am I a bitch. And not only am I really wealthy, but also I'm super pretty. You won't be able to trust me with all the travel. Who knows who I'll end up kissing? After all, I can't really help myself. I'm a cheater, Finn. A cheater. And only you can do that. At least Rachel will be here, safe and sound, tucked away under her very busy schedule." _

_Finn cocked his head as he mulled that over. His frown and furrowed brow seemed permanent now. _

_Rachel noticed the wheels slowly turning in Finn's head, and fought harder to drive her point home; the boy really should pick Quinn. "True, I really don't have any time. That's what makes our relationship so perfect, Quinn. Your job is me. It's the best of both worlds. But just think of all those glamorous events you'll have to attend, Finn. You'll have to get dressed up and escort me to events where people won't pay you any attention because they'll be too busy looking at me. You'll have to hold my purse while people take picture after picture of yours truly. They'll call you _Mr. Berry_, Finn, _Mr. Berry!_" _

_Finn's eyes widened at the news and Quinn took notice. She was about to bring up another argument when something occurred to her. She frowned as she turned to Rachel. "They never call me Mrs. Berry." _

"_That's because you're famous in your own right." Rachel paused for a moment as she took in Quinn's slightly hurt expression. "Wait…would it not bother you if they referred to you as Mrs. Berry?" _

_Quinn considered that for a moment. "I don't know? No, probably not. I'm kind of proud of you so I think I would just feel proud." _

"_Really?" Rachel asked quietly, looking up at Quinn with big eyes. _

_Quinn tilted her head, unsure as to why Rachel would be so surprised. "Sure. Why wouldn't I? You're incredible." Quinn whispered, her hands finding Rachel's waist. They stared at one another for a moment while the vision of flashing bulbs went off and people yelling at Quinn to turn to pose for a picture played in her mind. Suddenly Quinn was biting her lip as her nose scrunched. "Damn…now I kind of wish they'd call me Mrs. Berry." _

_Rachel bounced a little before she wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck. "Well, we could always just legally change your last name, you know. One quick trip to the courts and then everyone would _have_ to call you Mrs. Berry!" _

_Quinn licked her lips at the thought. "Can I think about it?"_

_Rachel froze as her eyes widened. "Oh my, God! Are you serious? I was just kidding! Would you seriously change your name?!" She was bouncing again. _

_Quinn laughed at the sight of Rachel's excitement. "I don't know, Rachel. I think Fabray suits me…but…I kind of like the idea of really being a part of your family. I obviously don't care about my own and it would be nice to pass the Berry name on seeing as how you're the last one…"_

_Rachel squealed loudly. "My fathers are going to freak out, Quinn!" _

_Quinn chuckled quietly as she tightened her grip around Rachel's waist. "I said I would think about it!" _

_Rachel threw up her hands. "Yes, of course. I'm not mentally filling out the paperwork in my head right now or anything!" _

"_I'm thinking about it."_

"_No, I know. I heard you." _

_Quinn smiled adoringly at Rachel as her wife tried to keep a straight face. But her enthusiasm was obvious. They allowed another full moment of just staring at one another before the looming, shifting presence next to them had them sharing an eye roll. _

_Rachel turned back to Finn as Quinn slipped her arm around her wife's waist. "Well, it was great seeing you Finn. Let us know when you've made your decision over which of us you choose. And maybe next time when you stop by you can do more talking." _

_Quinn gave the boy a beaming smile that was laced with sarcasm. "Yeah, just jump on in to the conversation, big guy. I know that our combined celebrity status can be intimidating and overwhelming-"_

"_Those words mean 'scary' and 'great', Finn." Rachel supplied with a straight face. _

"_But feel free to catch up." Quinn finished with another big, fake smile. _

"_Finn, are you sure you didn't want to stay for dinner?" Rachel asked kindly. "What are we making tonight, Quinn?" She asked, turning slightly to look up at her wife. _

"_Tonight I was going to teach you how to make a vegetable 'cheese' casserole." _

_Rachel untangled herself to jump up and down as she clapped. "Oh, that's right! Quinn's teaching me how to cook." She told the boy. "I'm her sous chef! That means that I help out in the kitchen for the real chef. Which is Quinn." _

_Quinn patted Finn's shoulder. "So…it was great seeing you, Finn, and the next time you're in New York give us a call and we'll get you tickets to Rachel's show. I would get you tickets for tonight's performance, but it's sold out." She winced with false regret. _

_Rachel nodded slowly and regretfully. "And it wouldn't be fair of us to use my star status to acquire tickets for you at the determent of young Broadway lovers, who stand in line hours before curtain for cheaper tickets; the arts are very important for young people, Finn." _

_Quinn nodded along, taking Rachel's hand in her own. "But you keep us updated on which of us you're interested in and we'll talk then." _

_Rachel beamed and patted Finn's other shoulder. "It really was great seeing you. Hope you're well and we'll catch up soon. Bye!" _

"_Later, Hudson." _

_Quinn slammed the door with a resounding bang before Finn could even realize what was happening. Rachel looped her arm around Quinn's as they went back into their apartment. "What a lovely visit." _

_Quinn nodded as she led Rachel into the bedroom. "It was fun seeing him." _

_Outside the apartment, Finn Hudson stared at the door in confusion. It would take a further ten minutes for him to realize that he would never see either girl ever again. He got lost many times on his way back to the train station. _

_Inside the apartment, Rachel glanced up at her wife and haltered their progress on their way into the bedroom. "Were you serious about changing your name, or was that just for Finn's benefit?" _

_Quinn smiled and swung their joined hands back and forth. "Both?" _

_Blush erupted across Rachel's cheeks and down her neck out of sheer pleasure and sudden shyness. She glanced down at their hands before looking up at Quinn from underneath her eyelashes. "I was thinking of changing my name, too." _

_Quinn's eyebrow shot up. "Oh?" _

_Ducking her head again, Rachel cleared her suddenly dry throat. "I thought, maybe, I'd keep Berry as my stage name, but legally change it to Fabray?" She looked back up to see a softly smiling Quinn. _

"_I think that sounds like a really good plan." _

_Rachel nodded once, allowing herself to smile as well. "We'll make a trip tomorrow to the court house." _

"_We'll bring Rufus: I have a walk with him from nine until noon." _

_Rachel's smile got wider. "He'll be most pleased to witness the monumental event!" _

_Quinn's smile turned into a smirk as she slowly approached her wife. Rachel backed up, unknowingly headed into the closet where they last left off. "Now." Quinn husked, eyes roaming all over Rachel's body. "Where were we?" _

Kurt cleared his throat loudly for the third time, very aware that both his interviewees had checked out of the conversation, and were, by the glazed looks in their eyes, sharing the same illicit memory. "Perhaps we should move on?"

Both girls shook their heads to clear the lovely memory of the very hot closet sex they had shared. "Maybe it's best we should." Rachel said, somewhat dazed, and squeezed the hand in her own tighter.

Kurt smiled softly at the pair and reviewed his notes. "Speaking of exes, I heard that you were both in Jesse St. James' wedding party, and, in fact, Rachel, you sang at the event?"

Rachel nodded at the easy question. "Yes, I was Jesse's best man, and Quinn was a groomsman along with our mutual friends, Lydia and Jeremy. I sang a mash-up during the ceremony that the bride and groom chose to reflect their respective taste: Queen's _I Was Born to Love You_, with Destiny's Child's _Dangerously in Love_."

Kurt's nose crinkled in slight disgust. "Sorry I missed that."

Quinn squeezed Rachel closer to her side. "Rachel nailed it."

Kurt nodded. "I'm sure she did. Moving on, and speaking of weddings, I heard you two shared a private ceremony on your one year anniversary. Would you like to talk a little about that?"

Both girls smiled softly, exchanging tender glances. "We just wanted to reaffirm our vows." Quinn answered, not wanting to expand on the topic.

It had been Rachel's idea. She wanted to have a wedding with Quinn where they could pronounce their love verbally. It had been a very small, private service, and, like their two other wedding ceremonies they had, they cried throughout. They also kept telling one another, over and over, how much they loved each other while Rabbi Greenburg went through the service, as Rachel's fathers, Jesse and Aphasia, and Jeremy and Lydia stood around them.

"Mazel tov." Kurt said stiffly, eyes on his notes. "I suspect my invitation just got lost in the mail." He mumbled, hurt.

Quinn and Rachel both smiled. "It was _very _small and private." Quinn assured. Both girls did feel badly that they hadn't invited anyone else. They really wanted just close friends and family there. Only Jesse, Lydia, and Jeremy knew the full story—_everything _that had happened between the girls—and Quinn and Rachel wanted a celebration with people who understood how far they'd come and what it meant.

"Fine." Kurt replied, wounded, but willing to move on for the moment. "Let's discuss far more interesting things besides how boring and in love you are." The girls chuckled and held one another a little closer. "Both your careers have exploded and don't seem to be slowing down in the least; let's talk about that, shall we? Quinn first?"

Quinn nodded and sat up a little straighter. "My agency, while small, is really making an impact. I've managed to expand into television and film, all while keeping my roots in theatre and music; it's…very exciting." Quinn said, blush sweeping over her delicate features. She didn't want to brag, but she was damn proud of herself.

"Not to mention," Rachel spoke up, _very _willing to brag. "Her very popular dog walking business here in New York City. By far the largest!" Rachel boasted, looking straight at the camera, her face set, almost as though she was trying to hypnotize people into using the service.

Quinn ducked her head, pleased by the compliment, while Kurt chuckled. "I suppose it doesn't hurt that you yourself, Rachel, do a fair bit of dog walking for the company. I can only imagine what it would be like to have a star of your quality walk my Pomeranian."

Rachel blinked back at Kurt. "I _do _walk Ethel."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "But I _know _you. When you showed up at my door with the newest Broadway hunk, Asher Sawyer, I almost lost it!"

"All apart of the service!" Rachel beamed. And it was true, not just for Kurt and Ethel the Pomeranian. Rachel thought it would be a nice touch if she escorted some of Quinn's clients around the city to get better acquainted, or, for the ones already familiar with New York City, share a nice chat while they dog walked. The clients loved it, and it brought in many new customers. And the paparazzi loved it as well. Mostly because Rachel Berry was never short on conversation.

She'd walk around the city, chatting with the paparazzi as though they were old friends. If she made a stop at _Starbucks _to pick up a drink, or a sandwich at that corner deli she loved best to take her wife, she'd happily purchase a snack for whatever cameraman (woman) waited outside for her. It was at the point where Rachel knew each paparazzo's drink order. Rachel chalked it up to the fact that she had been preparing for the paparazzi her whole life; she never felt the need to attack anyone with an umbrella. By now, she was damn good at it dealing with them. But it was give and take. All Rachel would have to do was give the paparazzi a wave, and they knew that Rachel wanted to be left alone. She gave them so many perfect picture moments and one-liners that they liked keeping her happy.

"Let's talk about _A Sweetness_." Kurt said, moving the interview along. "It's already getting Oscar buzz, and Broadway, on the heels of the reboot, want to put it back on the stage. Comments, Rachel?"

Rachel put her "thinking" face on and answered carefully. "I loved the storyline right away. The character enchanted me and I was very excited when the producers decided to give it new life on the big screen. I truly hope it finds its way back to the stage, because it never really got its due the first time around."

"Would you be interested in finding your way back into the role?" Kurt asked with a smirk, hoping to get a scoop.

Rachel smiled mysteriously. "It's been mentioned, however, at this time, I'm just enjoying a little time off. _Wink and a Nod _is touring, and I'm reviewing scripts." Kurt frowned, disappointed. "_But_," Rachel said with a secret smile, getting Kurt to perk up. "I wouldn't be opposed to, perhaps, making a few appearances."

Kurt shook his head, chuckling. "Oh, I'm sure. But back to the Oscar buzz. This would be your _second _Academy Award nomination in only two years. Can we, maybe, talk about your first Oscar nomination?"

Quinn was laughing and shaking her head before Kurt even finished his request. Looking lovingly down at her wife, she noticed Rachel was already blushing hotly as she rolled her eyes at herself.

"Do we _have _to?" Rachel whined, ducking her head into her hands.

Rachel had every right to be embarrassed. It was a well-known joke, now, in the industry, about how Rachel Berry did _not _want to win the Oscar, in fear that the curse would ruin her marriage. How it all came out, though, was the embarrassing part.

_Rachel had been on edge all week leading up to the Academy Awards. After hair and makeup (read: Kurt) had done their part, Quinn had to put on Rachel's gown for her, her wife was shaking so badly. _

"_What if I win and I'm in the middle of my acceptance speech and you suddenly stand up and shout out that you don't love me and never did and leave right there and then?! Quinn! That could happen!" _

_Quinn sat beside Rachel in the limo on their way to the Dolby theatre, quietly reading as she held Rachel's hand. "Win or lose, Rachel, I'm still going to love you." Quinn sat down her book as she thought about what her wife had just said. "And I think I have a little more class not to just jump up and announce to everyone that I don't love you and never did. I'm sure I would at least wait until you were off the stage." _

_Rachel gawked at her wife until Quinn started to laugh. "Are you trying to be funny? Do you think this is FUNNY?!" _

_Throughout the ceremony, Rachel was a shaking wreck, gripping Quinn's hand as though her life depended on it. Quinn kept trying to reassure Rachel, and Rachel would listen to each word, inhaling slowly, soaking up her wife's affections. _

_It didn't stop Rachel from tensing when the Best Actress category came around. The previous year's winner, Helena Bonham Carter, stood on stage and said a bunch of things Rachel couldn't make heads or tails of. If asked, Rachel couldn't supply who even hosted the event. She was too busy holding onto her wife for all that she was worth, while wiping away sweat, and counting the beats of her racing heart. _

"_Rachel," Quinn whispered softly into her wife's ear. "Whatever happens, I'm going to love you forever. I will stay with you forever. Even if you throw me out, I'm not leaving. You hear me?" Rachel took a deep breath as Helena Bonham Carter started to name the nominees, and nodded. She was aware that the camera was on her, showing the audience at home her reaction. She just kept her eyes on Quinn. Ignoring how her body was shaking head to toe. She just stared at Quinn and found herself. _

_It was a very curious moment for Rachel when she heard Meryl Streep's name being called instead of her own. When she had lost her Best Supporting Golden Globe to Amy Adams, Rachel felt real devastation. Hearing that she had lost the Oscar to Meryl, an award she didn't even want, didn't make her feel any better. _

_Her body sagged against Quinn's as she finally breathed. Quinn kissed the side of Rachel's head softly. "You're _my _superstar? Okay?" _

_Rachel nodded, and clapped along with everyone else as Meryl Streep took the stage. Rachel felt like the sound had finally been turned on; she couldn't remember hearing anything that happened all night. _

"_Wow." Meryl said, once she was holding the award and standing in front of the microphone. "This is…unexpected._" _The celebrated actress said to the audience as she gazed at them over her glasses. She took a deep breath as she scanned the crowd before her. "And, also…undeserved." _

_The audience gasped loudly as chatter broke out. _

"_I am very thankful to the Academy for granting me yet another award, but I cannot, in all good consciousness, accept this when I feel as though my performance was sub par. Not when there's someone else who deserves it more." _

"_Oh shit." Quinn exhaled slowly and gripped Rachel's hand. Rachel looked up at her in confusion. _

"_What's wrong?" Quinn could only stare back at her wife, already seeing where this was headed. _

_Meryl was talking again. "I spoke earlier with some of my fellow nominees. Judy, Helen, Kate, and we felt very strongly about what would happen if any of us were to win. And, since it was me, I would like to ask if Mrs. Berry would join me on the stage and accept this award for her brilliant performance in _Which of You, I Love_!" _

_The audience erupted in cheers as they jumped to their feet, very much so enjoying anything Meryl had to say or do, but mostly because they were witnessing a very historic moment. There had only been a handful of times when an Academy winner handed their award over to someone else. _

_Nonplussed, and still very out of it, Rachel got to her feet along with everyone to clap. "Rachel!" Quinn hissed, grabbing her wife's hands in her own. "What are you doing?!" _

_Rachel frowned at Quinn. "Quinn, when Meryl Streep speaks, you stand. It's like the National Anthem." _

_Quinn was shaking her head frantically, her watery eyes wide as she stared at her wife. "Rachel, Meryl freaking Streep just gave up the award for _you_!" _

_Okay, maybe Rachel hadn't _really _been able to listen. It wasn't her fault that she was still a mess over being nominated and then losing. _

"_Wait." Rachel said, shaking her head hard. "WHAT?!" Looking around, Rachel could see the audience turned to face her. A camera pointed at her. And Meryl freaking Streep laughed, staring directly at Rachel. "I'm going to throw up, Quinn. You can't let me throw up on stage on Meryl Streep!" _

_Rachel wasn't sure how she found herself up on stage, standing next to Meryl Streep and Helena Bonham Carter, but since Quinn was at the edge of the stage, she was pretty sure Quinn had escorted her there. _

_Meryl put the award in Rachel's shaky, sweaty hands, and then engulfed her in a hug. She mumbled a few things, but Rachel heard none of them. She just kept her mouth shut so she wouldn't vomit down the woman's back. _

_She was guided over to the podium, where Rachel came face to face with a standing ovation. Suddenly, Rachel was a little more coherent: an applauding audience could do that for Rachel Berry. _

"_Oh my God." She breathed out, sure the audience could hear her racing heart through the mic. She found Quinn, still standing by the edge of the stage, and took deep breaths as their eyes locked. "Ms. Streep?" Rachel said, turning suddenly to find the woman. _

"_Yes, dear?" The woman moved to Rachel's side. _

"_Meryl? May I call you Meryl?" The audience laughed loudly, Quinn cried harder through her laughter, and Meryl threw back her head as she laughed along. _

"_You may, dear." _

"_Meryl, this is overwhelmingly generous of you. But, while I am indeed tremendously grateful, I have a very quick question; if it's not too much trouble." Meryl nodded. "And Ms. Bonham Carter, if you have any insight, I'd love to hear from you as well." Again, the audience laughed, and Helena moved to Rachel's other side, both women poised on either side of Rachel to speak into the mic. _

_Rachel took a shuddering breath, trying to regain any sense of solid ground. Her eyes found Quinn's again. "Is this an _official _win? Like, does it _really _count? Because I've only been married for a few short months, and I would like to _remain _married to my wife, if that's not too much to ask. Because that Best Actress curse _really _scares the hell out of me." _

Rachel pouted, arms crossed, as Kurt and Quinn continued to laugh, tears streaming down their faces. Rachel's little declaration had set the whole audience off then as well.

"It's not _funny_!" Rachel chastised them, to no avail. "How about we talk about my Tony acceptance speech! That was more articulate. Or, the Grammy I just received!"

"But they're not as funny!" Kurt responded, finally getting a hold of himself. Rachel _hmpfed _in reply.

However, they _did _talk about Rachel's Tony win. She had cried passionately throughout the whole thing. Quinn cried harder. She managed to thank Ainsley and Charlene Swain—they were crying as well—and spent most of her speech gushing her love to Quinn.

The Grammy nomination had been a shocker. And all thanks to Mercedes Jones. She had been nominated for Best R&B Album and had won. And, because Rachel was billed as the producer on the album, she got herself a Grammy.

If you would have asked Rachel Berry years before if she would have minded earning the coveted G in EGOT by means of producing, instead of winning the award because her own album was nominated, she would have said _hell yes_! But Rachel rather liked the idea that Mercedes had trusted her to produce. That she had friends. That she was well-rounded enough to even produce. That she was being taken more seriously _because _of it. She was, actually, immenselyproud of the award.

The interview was winding down. Kurt only had two more topics that he wanted to address. The first was a little salacious; therefore, Kurt was excited.

"Let's discuss your marriage further. How do you keep things interesting? Is it difficult because of your hectic schedules? Difficult to find time for each other?"

Rachel cocked her head in thought as Quinn glanced away from the camera: this was an area she did _not _like to talk about. With anyone but Rachel, that is.

It hadn't been hard getting Rachel onboard to go to Lima and sneak into McKinley for a little role-playing. Quinn had gotten the keys from Sue, and Quinn and Rachel had snuck into the school and into the choir room for a little after hour's fun. First, Quinn was in the Cheerios' uniform. Then Rachel. Then neither of them. But for times when the girls couldn't travel to spice up their love life, they settled for wherever they could get it. They were quite thorough.

Rachel didn't mind doing the laundry. She just thought that it would be best to cure Quinn of her hatred of laundry rooms. After two spin cycles, Quinn declared herself cured. It didn't stop the girls from exploring the rinse cycle, and even the fluff cycle on the dryer—they learned very quickly that it was preferable to have sex on the dryer when it wasn't so hot.

"We just make time for one another." Rachel said with a shrug. "Plan dates, go on trips: the usual." She said casually, even though lecherous thoughts were racing through her head.

Kurt was completely bored by that answer. "And how about the future? Hmm? Any plans for little Rachels or Quinns running around?"

Quinn let Rachel handle it. "We're a little young yet, but we'd like to start exploring our options. There's a lot to consider. But we have time."

Since Rachel wasn't working, currently, she had had a lot of time to think about babies. It didn't help that she and Quinn would regularly babysit Santana and Brittany's baby boy. Rachel would take him out with her as she did her dog walks. Or to the theatre. Once he was born, Quinn hired Santana at her agency, and the little tyke was often in Quinn's arms, even while she conducted meetings. The pull towards babies was getting stronger each day.

Kurt sighed whimsically. "You two live in a fairytale." He gushed, getting Quinn and Rachel to smile at one another. "Like you live in a romantic comedy!"

At this, both girls laughed loudly. It had become an inside joke to them, the concept of romantic comedies. Rachel used to wish everyday to live in one. To have what two romantic leads shared. She spent most of her life trying to orchestrate just that. Until, one day, the Captain of the Mean Girls drunkenly declared her love to her.

It was unexpected. Out of nowhere. And completely not apart of Rachel Berry's life plan. But, somehow, it became the best thing that had ever happened to her. And to Quinn as well. Rachel quickly learned that the best moments could not be planned. The operation Rachel had spent so much time on, was almost completely forgotten once her plane touched down in Lima. If it wasn't for the horse and carriage that pulled up outside the Berrys' house, Rachel would have thrown the whole operation out the window. She much more enjoyed the spontaneity she and Quinn shared. Although, the carriage ride itself had been very romantic.

As Quinn and Rachel smiled at each other, holding one another tightly, they couldn't help but disagree with Kurt: they _didn't_ live in a romantic comedy. Sometimes it was hard. Messy. Their past certainly was. They had, however, managed to work through it all. It took time. Not the length of a movie. No amount of montages could erase how Quinn treated Rachel in high school, nor the lie they both had shared. But, what they did every day was better than any grand romantic gesture, or a well-placed musical number. The small things. How Rachel removed her hair from the bathroom drain after a shower. Or Quinn counting to ten instead of letting her anger get the best of her. Sometimes it was boring.

To Quinn and Rachel, though, it was all magical. Because they had managed to find each other, and grown with one another. And that was better than any romantic comedy either girl had ever seen.

"So, anything else to add before we rap up this interview?" Kurt asked.

Both girls just shook their heads, pleased with what they had already offered. They were eager to be alone. The interview had left them both nostalgic.

"Okay, that's a wrap." Kurt told the camera crew. He winked at both girls and got up, all around them the sets and cameras were being dismantled. "I just have to go over everything with my producer. Make sure everything looked and sounded good. Okay?"

"Sure." Quinn nodded.

"Yep." Rachel confirmed.

"You guys can hold on a little longer?" He asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't putting either of them out.

"Kurt," Rachel said with an eye roll. She collapsed against Quinn's side and was immediately ensconced in her wife's arms. She felt Quinn lay a kiss to the top of her head and smiled. "Stop worrying about us."

"Yeah." Quinn agreed, squeezing Rachel tighter. "We'll be just fine."

"_Mmmhmm_." Rachel agreed, feeling quite comfortable and at home. "We'll be more than fine."


End file.
